Our World
by Supa Supa Bad Truly Mad Moves
Summary: The dead have been brought back, but life is hardly complete. Struck with cabin fever, the group begins their final adventure. But there are things out there. Things less than man but more than machine. This world will never be the same.
1. New

**OUR WORLD**

**A "9" fanfiction by Supa Supa Bad Truly Mad Moves**

**Hello there. I've never written fanfiction for "9" before. I have only just added it to my List of Inspiring Things. It is a very long list, and "9" may just be the new topper.**

**Anyway, here's my first attempt at writing for "9". Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "9" ain't my property. Sorry to disappoint you.**

**Chapter 1: New**

9 crawled to the top of the mound where he had seen 7. He settled down next to her.

"Good morning, 9," she said quietly. Her eyes were closed, and she was reveling in the wind blowing in her face. It was a new sort of wind, like the stitchpunks had never before felt; it was not hostile at all, indeed refreshing.

From their vantage point, they could see 3 some distance away, digging through some rubble at the foot of a building.

"What's he looking for?" 9 asked.

"I'm not sure," 7 replied. "They've been digging around for a couple of days now, haven't they?"

"Yes," 9 agreed. "Where's 4?"

"Scurrying around somewhere, I'm sure."

9 frowned. "I've never seen the twins apart. Are you sure they're okay?"

7 finally opened her eyes and turned to 9, smiling at him. "9, you haven't been with us for very long. I've known 3 and 4 for years; trust me, they don't need to be around each other all the time."

"Right," 9 muttered. "I forget that sometimes… that I was never really part of the group."

"Sure you are," 7 assured him. "You're just new. There's no shame in that."

7 tapped 9 comfortingly on the shoulder before returning to her meditation.

She hadn't realized it, but simple gestures like that had been causing alarming reactions in 9 ever since the rainstorm ended. 9 didn't know what it meant, but every friendly pat from 7 had him longing for more. Yes, wouldn't it have been lovely if 7 accentuated her comments, not with simple taps or hugs, but with gentle caresses across his face or hands…?

Only for him, though. 9 knew that he wouldn't want to see her doing that to 3 or 4.

He had considered voicing those desires to 7, but something, perhaps residual social knowledge from his creator, the Scientist, told him that she would not be pleased. This internal debate had been going on for a while; the sun had set and then risen ten times now since the first rain.

9 couldn't keep his curiosity at bay, though. He knew it was his greatest fault, probably the reason for the five memorials near the First Room, but he couldn't hold it in any longer. He focused his attention on 7's smooth, white back, with her number written on it in ink. 9 reached out with one finger and delicately traced the shape of the number.

7 was still meditating. 9 had no way of knowing if she'd noticed.

It was a few seconds later that 7 stretched her legs and opened her eyes, smiling at 9 as if realizing he was there for the first time.

"What's on your mind?" she asked.

"Oh, not much," 9 lied. "Just, um… wondering about the years of the war, in the sanctuary. 1 had you and the twins crossed off on his little chart… like you were dead. 'Lost', he called you."

7 shrugged. "Well, we were dead to him, probably. 3 and 4 were the first to leave; they wanted to learn, to read, to discover. 1 wouldn't have any of that, so he kicked them out. Then I left, too, after a while. I guess I just couldn't stand living my whole life in one place."

9 looked out across the wasteland. "Do you think we really _are_ all that remains? Maybe there are more remnants of humanity out there, somewhere."

7 scoffed. "More likely there are more machines, ready to hunt us down to destroy the tiny pieces of human soul that we possess. We'll be ready for them, though."

9 pulled the Talisman out from where he kept it, zipped up inside himself. "What are we supposed to do?" he muttered. "The others, their souls are free, but how do we 'protect the future'?"

7 shrugged her shoulders. Apparently she wasn't too worried about the future. In the present, she was content, more so than any time in her life. "Finding anything down there, 3?" she called.

3 waved to her enthusiastically, holding up some sort of blueprints.

"What is that?" 9 asked.

7 shrugged. "If they want to, they'll explain it to us later." She tousled the top of 9's head. "For now, we just have to keep on living. We can't just let the world go by."

7 slid elegantly down the mound and set off, clearly ready to search out some unexplored region of the town.

9 sighed. She was so much more finely-crafted than he was, whether he was a later design or not. As much as he wanted to hold her, why would she want to be held? 9 went down the opposite end of the mound, returning to the memorial, to be alone with his thoughts and the graves of his friends.


	2. Dark Science

**Chapter 2: Dark Science**

When he arrived at the memorials, 9 was surprised to find 4 there. He had brought a book, and was looking down a page of it slowly and carefully.

"4?" 9 said.

4 spun around in shock.

"It's just me, 4," 9 said, laughing at the frightened reaction. "What are you reading? And why here?"

4 slammed the book shut and concealed the title.

"Are you keeping secrets?" 9 demanded with a smile.

4 shook his head frantically, then rushed over to a silver whistle laying on the ground, and blew hard. In an empty world, the single trilling note could be heard for miles and miles—if there had been anyone miles away to hear.

9 tried to look at the book, but the characters in the title were unfamiliar to him. In the pages, 9 saw a small gap where a tiny strip of the page had been torn out. He opened to that page, and saw that it was the Scientist's old alchemy book. The gap he had seen was where 1 had ripped up the page during his rant in the library.

"Dark science", 1 had called it. The ancient art that the Scientist had combined with his modern knowledge to create them, the nine portions of a single human soul.

9 tried to scope out the page, but the illustrations were all that made sense; the words were foreign to him. 4 hurriedly shoved him away.

"You can read this?" 9 asked.

4 nodded stiffly, flipping through the pages once more.

3 and 7 appeared then, responding to the whistle blast. "Has something happened?" 7 called.

3 rushed to his twin's side, the two of them locating a specific page.

"I don't know what they're up to," 9 admitted. "I've never seen them act this way! They seem almost… angry."

7 shook her head. "No, I think they're just excited. Maybe they've found something interesting and just don't want to be interrupted."

3 and 4 consulted with each other, then nodded in unison. They waved over the two others.

"I don't understand," 7 said honestly, looking at the page.

3 and 4 communicated once again, then proceeded into an elaborate pantomime. 4 laid down flat on his back, eyes closed, in front of 5's grave marker. 3 touched the pages of the book and made curious gestures with his arms, waving and wiggling his fingers. Finally, 3 pointed forcefully toward the limp 4, who abruptly opened his eyes and stood up, dancing around and looking thrilled.

9 processed that. "You think you can use the book to bring them back?" he summarized.

3 and 4 nodded, looking more cheerful now.

7 looked closer at the handwritten page. "How can you understand this?" she asked. "I only know English."

The twins shrugged noncommittally, then knocked on their own heads.

"It's just a part of who they are," 9 said. "Like how 5 was timid, or 2 was creative, or…"

"6 was a creep, 8 was a jackass, and 1 was a small-minded tyrant?" 7 finished.

9 frowned. "You… you wouldn't want to bring them back if we could? Because it seems like we can! Right?" He turned uncertainly to the twins, who nodded again.

"I didn't say that," 7 said. "They had their flaws, we all do, but we also all have good qualities." She held the burlap flag that served as 5's marker. All of the survivors could agree that 5 was the most missed.

Something about the way 7 gently fingered the fabric made 9 bristle. "I don't think _you_ have any flaws, 7," he blurted.

She looked at him, alarmed. 3 and 4 turned to each other, blinking rapidly.

Finally, 7 smiled. "Well, thank you, 9." She stepped forward and shoved his shoulder playfully. "You know, sometimes I feel like you and I are very different… then other times, not so much." She walked past him. "Keep studying," she called to 3 and 4. "I can't wait to see how it turns out."

9 was still reeling from the stupid comment he had made. Though 7 clearly didn't see it that way… what had she meant when she said that? 9 turned on his heel and pursued 7 through the emptiness.


	3. Apologize

**Chapter 3: Apologize**

9 ran to catch up to 7. "7, what… what did you mean by that?"

"Nothing, 9," she said. "It's just interesting! From what you've said, you and I are two different pieces of one person, one human. And sometimes you can tell, and other times it's hard to believe."

9 didn't have time to process that before 7 continued talking. "So, what do you think? We might get a chance to bring back the others! Are you looking forward to it?"

He nodded. "I am. You?"

"Yes," she said. "I was starting to go stir-crazy in this empty world. It will be nice, to have someone else to talk to."

"You have someone to talk to," 9 muttered.

"Maybe. 3 and 4 aren't much for fine conversation, though, you have to admit. And you… don't get me wrong, I love you, but I'll be very relieved when I start hearing more than one voice around here."

9 stumbled. "You… you love me?"

7 turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Of course," she said slowly. He had been behaving so strangely lately! She wondered if it was just a part of him she had never noticed before, or if something alarming had happened to him that he was keeping secret. "I don't know if you process things differently or what, but I love you and 3 and 4."

"Oh, right," 9 said. "Me and 3 and 4… uh-huh."

"But I loved the others too," 7 continued. "Some of them, anyway. There will be more… _variety_ in our lives then."

"Right," 9 said. "And… and… and if they're brought back, I'll finally get a chance to apologize."

7 dug a small indentation in the earth and reclined there. The sun was setting. "I don't think any of them would take your apology, 9," she said.

"I suppose not," he said. "It _was_ pretty awful, what I did…"

"No, idiot," 7 said cheerfully. "I mean, they wouldn't _want_ you to apologize. The only person who blames you is you."

9 laid down next to her. "I got them all killed."

"No, 9. You saved the world. You were willing to take an active role. That's a good thing. And if the twins are right, if we can bring the deceased back, then there were no real consequences for what you did! You've done only good, 9."

He looked at her. "Well, it's nice that you think so, anyway."

"9, I'm done trying to convince you," 7 said. "At this point, only you can mend your own opinion of yourself. I'm going to sleep now."

She closed her eyes and slipped her hand into 9's. In seconds, she was asleep.

9 didn't sleep at all that night. His brain was occupied, thinking about her words… and wondering what in the world her fingers were doing intertwined with his.


	4. Ideal

**Chapter 4: Ideal**

7 woke up to rapid tapping on her lenses. The moment she opened her eyes, 3 started flashing his lights in her face. Turning her head, she saw 4 doing the same to 9.

Once sure that they were fully awake, the twins scuttled off, beckoning the other two to join them.

"Damn," 7 muttered. "Those twerps sure know how to thoroughly wake someone. Takes some getting used to. Are you okay, 9?"

"Fine," he said. "I wasn't sleeping anyway."

3 and 4 beckoned them again before ducking around a corner. 9 caught up with them quickly.

"You've finished the spell?" he asked.

They nodded happily before finally reaching the memorials. 9 and 7 stopped in their tracks. In front of the graves were the bodies of the five deceased.

"How did you do this?" 7 demanded.

The twins shrugged modestly.

"Have you been working on the spell all night long?" 9 whispered. That meant that 7 was the only one who got any sleep, he thought, amused.

7 inspected the bodies. "These are flawless replicas," she said. "How could you have recovered all of the bodies? This is extraordinary!"

3 tapped the book. 9 and 7 didn't entirely understand, but evidently the spellbook had allowed them to recover the bodies, even 6, dropped into the chasm, and 2, sent down the river.

The body of 5 still had a leather patch in place of an eye. "No new eye for 5?" 9 asked.

"This is his ideal self," 7 explained. "I don't think he'd want to come back if we gave him two eyes. That's why 3 and 4 don't speak; what some consider a handicap, others can benefit from."

7 examined the spellbook. "I've only seen the one page that shows anything like us," she said. "This looks like it's used to revive humans; would it work for… for what we are?"

4 picked up a scrap of paper and a pen nib, wrote down a single word with impossible speed, and passed it to 7.

"Stitchpunk?" she read.

The twins nodded, gesturing to themselves and the others.

"That's what we're called?" 9 asked. "That's the word for what we are?"

"All right," 7 said. "Will the spell work for… stitchpunks, then?"

3 and 4 nodded again, then shrugged. It was likely, but they didn't know for sure. They tapped the book, then gestured grandly to the bodies.

"Who first?" 9 asked.

"5," 7 said instantly.

Though 9 had been about to say the same thing, something about 7 wanting 5 back angered him.

"Oh really?" he said darkly.

"I thought you liked 5," 7 said.

"I did… " 9 said, trying to cover his tracks. "I just meant… um… um… well, we don't know if it'll work! If we do it wrong, then the first one we try may be lost forever."

"Ah," 7 said, smiling. "Better start with 8, then."

9 managed a laugh, and all four of them carried the book to the feet of 8's body. The twins anxiously tapped the text on the page.

7 recoiled. "Do we have to read this aloud?"

They nodded.

"What would you do if you had to do this alone?" 7 demanded.

They shrugged, but tapped the page again. 9 knelt down and studied the words closely.

"I think I can figure these out," he said. "What do we do while we read it?"

3 and 4 pointed to the rising sun, then to the opposite horizon.

"This will take all day?" 7 said. "For… for all of them, or just the first?"

4 held up one finger.

"Wow," 7 murmured.

And so it went. For twelve hours, 9 read the words on the page aloud, while 3 and 4 directed 7 through the gestures and handling of the material components. The job was exhausting, and only the twins had any real idea of what progress was being made―and they certainly weren't telling the other two.

At sunset, the fires were struck. 3 and 4 continued prodding 7 and 9 mercilessly, until finally, they held up their hands, stopping the work in its tracks.

"What?" 7 whispered. "What now?"

3 flipped the pages and pointed to a single word, one that 7 actually recognized despite the fancy print.

"Name?" 7 muttered. "We have to say their names? Well, that may be a problem. We don't really have names. Will it work if we just say… 8?"

In response, a powerful green light burst from the sky and filled 8 with life. The body twitched.

"That answers my question," 7 muttered.

8 blinked repeatedly, then abruptly sat up.

"What about his soul?" 9 whispered. "Does he have it?"

3 and 4 nodded, helping 8 to his feet.

"Wha's goin' on?" 8 slurred.

"We brought you back, 8," 7 informed him. "We're bringing all of you back. You were first."

"I'm alive," 8 muttered, examining his fingers. "How?"

"Dark science," 9 said cheerfully.

8 was confused. "Huh?"

"This old alchemy book," 9 clarified, tapping it. "There's a resurrection spell in here."

"Huh?" 8 said again.

"The book," 9 said, starting to feel aggravated. "The same one our creator used, to make us. We're using it now."

8 nodded and scratched his chin, staring into space. Once he returned his attention to 9, he said, "Huh?"

"Just come here and help us with the next one," 7 said.

When they all turned, though, 3 and 4 were fast asleep, huddled together on the soft pages of the book.

9 smiled. "Let them sleep. They've been working hard for days. They could use some rest."

7 nodded. "We all could."

8 yawned. "I'll stand guard," he rumbled.

"No," 9 said. "Sleep. Don't worry. There's nothing left to come for us."

9 spread out across the pages and closed his eyes. 7 joined him.

8 looked at the way they were sleeping, with 7 resting her head on 9's shoulders, and his arms unconsciously wrapped around her middle. 8 chuckled. "Right on," he said, before leaning his back on his own grave marker and drifting to sleep himself.


	5. The Same

**Chapter 5: The Same**

The next day, they continued. With 8's involvement—an extra voice, extra lift―6 was alive within eleven hours.

6 opened his larger eye, then closed it and opened the other. He continued to phase back and forth for several minutes. Abruptly, he leapt to his feet.

"6?" 7 said, waving a hand before his face. "Anybody home?"

6 clutched his throat, leaving ink stains. "My key," he said, almost inaudibly. "Where is my key?"

3 and 4 got to their feet and handed him the ancient key ring.

"Yay!" 6 said piercingly. He pulled the ring down over his head.

"What does the key open?" 9 asked.

6 stared blankly for a moment, then continued clacking his fingers against the key.

"Get some sleep, 6," 7 said. "I hope you appreciate that we've spent all day reviving you."

6 nodded. "Life must go on," he said faintly.

That rang a bell somewhere for 9, but he didn't pursue it, knowing that if he asked, 6 wouldn't know how to explain anyway.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The next day, 2 was brought back.

"Welcome back to the world, 2," 7 said cheerfully.

"Oh my," 2 said. "Ah, my dear… this is the doing of a very special pair of garden gloves, am I right?"

3 and 4 grinned as 2 tapped their heads. Aside from the moment his soul was released from the Talisman, he hadn't seen them for several years.

2 hugged 7 and 6, then chopped 8 in the diaphragm, leaving the hulking stitchpunk doubled over and heaving.

Finally he got to 9. "Kinsman," he said, placing a hand on 9's shoulder.

9 embraced him back. "2, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am," he said. "I was reckless."

"No, no," 2 insisted. "You were curious. I'm sure that on the first day I was alive, I would have done the same. It's one thing we all have in common with our creator."

"Please, 2, just let me say sorry," 9 insisted.

"Accepted," 2 said. "Always accepted, kinsman."

2 looked to the bodies of 1 and 5. "I see in no time we'll have the power of many once again."

7 clicked her feet against 1's closed lenses. "Can't we skip him?" she suggested.

"Tempting," 9 said, smiling at her. "But 2 had it right, we need everybody."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

1's eyes opened into hexagons, then flattened to their ordinary slants.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"Life," 6 said wistfully. "Life!"

1 edged away from 6 before getting to his feet. "You've brought _me_ back? Why?"

"You're one of us," 7 said. "Unfortunately."

1 looked around at all of the others and flinched away. "2," he muttered. "Oh, 2, my brother, I've done a terrible thing…"

"Enough," 2 said. "We've been given new life… new chances. It will be like the very day we woke. Do you remember that day, 1?"

"Peaceful," 1 muttered. "Well… thank you, all of you." He squeezed 9's shoulder. "Well done. Very well done."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Finally, 5 opened his single eye. He bolted to his feet, screaming.

"5!" 9 said, hugging him. "5, you're back. You're alive."

5 spun on his heels. "Everybody is alive," he muttered.

"We brought everybody back," 9 said. "Saved the best for last." He winked.

2 leapt up to give 5 a hug. "Everything is back to normal," 2 said. "We're all here, in a peaceful world."

"2," 5 muttered. "I saw you die…"

"Well, I'm not dead anymore," 2 replied cheerfully.

"Where's my crossbow?" 5 demanded.

"5, get it through your head," 7 said cheerfully. "You don't _need_ a weapon. The world is ours. No more fights, no more hiding, no more running."

"Come, 5," 2 said cheerfully. "Let's search for treasure!"

5 scanned the ruined city. "Yes," he said. "Let's."

2 and 5 trekked off into the distance.

"If you find a magnet, don't let 8 have it," 1 called.

"Huh?" 8 demanded. "How d'you know about the magnet thing?"

"8, my dear man, the _world_ knows about the magnet thing."


	6. Gorgeous

**Chapter 6: Gorgeous**

A few days later, 9 found himself perched on top of an abandoned car, staring into the emptiness.

"Ah! Fellow tinkerer! Come join us, won't you?"

9 followed 2's voice to a little hollow carved in the side of a building. 2 and 5 had built themselves a makeshift laboratory in the hollow, where they had put together all of the old scraps they had found.

"What are you doing?" 9 asked.

"As I said: tinkering," 2 said cheerfully. "We thought you'd enjoy it in a situation that was not so… frantic."

"I think I would," 9 said.

"Maybe you could help us with the lighting," 5 said. "We can't find a power source that'll keep the place bright enough."

"I don't think we can," 9 said. "We'll have to make our own electricity. How would we go about that?"

"There's nothing available to us that'd be powerful enough," 5 said.

"Sure there is," 9 said. "All we have to do is find it!"

2 laughed. "You dream big, my young friend. It will be a long time, though, before we can generate our own power, if it ever happens at all."

9 shrugged.

"So, these days alone," 2 said conversationally, changing the subject. "You must have come to know 3, 4, and 7 quite well."

"Well, the twins keep to themselves," 9 said. "But, yes, 7 has been… the best of company, truly. Have either of you ever noticed that she's… well…"

The others turned to him when he didn't finish. "What?" 5 finally said.

"Did you ever notice that 7 is… very beautiful?"

5 looked confused, but 2 nodded. "Indeed. This man knew what he was doing."

2 tapped the photo of the Scientist that dominated the new lab's back wall. It was the only photo of him they could find in which he looked pleased, rather than depressed or frightened.

"Fine craftsmanship," 2 continued. "Almost as well-done as yourself."

"It's not just the crafting," 9 said, trying to force his burdensome thoughts into words. "There's something in the way she stands, and carries herself… how she always makes sure she's fresh and clean and white… and how she runs and jumps…"

2 nodded seriously, beginning to comprehend fully.

"She's beautiful all over," 9 said. "On the inside. Her mind, her nature, her soul… her one-ninth of a soul, if you will."

9 looked up at 2, now embarrassed at how much he had blurted out.

"You think you're the only one who's figured that out?" 5 said quietly.

9 turned. 5 had distanced himself from the conversation, sitting on a swivel chair that he had made out of a large screw and a pure gold medallion.

"7 is the only female of our race, for whatever that means," 5 said, crossing his legs comfortably and leaning back on a wooden plank that served as a desk. "And she thinks it means nothing. She made it clear years ago that she isn't interested in romance."

9 backed up a step. Had his fears of bringing 5 back been justified? Was his best friend also his rival?

"How so?" 9 finally said.

5 shrugged. "Well, you know. Some stitchpunks got all up in her face… and you know her, she doesn't accept that."

"Were _you_ one of them?" 9 demanded.

"I was confused, pathetic," 5 said. "Every time I found something or built something, I'd give it to her. Nothing seemed to impress her. After a while, she put her foot down. Told me she didn't want anything to do with me anymore. There were some awkward moments… finally, I decided I wanted to be her friend. It's hard to stay anonymous when nobody ever leaves the sanctuary." 5 grinned.

"You had feelings for 7," 9 muttered.

"You know what I think?" 5 said suddenly. He pointed to the photo of the Scientist. "I think that this guy knew that 7 was his best work, and he wanted to create somebody worthy of her. And that was his aim with you."

"Worthy of her?" 9 repeated.

"Well, yeah. Who's your competition? 8 and 6?"

"8 and 6?" 9 said, his spirits falling even further.

"8's flirting consisted of pushing her off the edges of support beams," 5 said. "And 6… well, who knows what 6 is thinking at any point? 6 did nothing but stare at her."

"And you," 9 said bluntly.

5 dismissed that. "9, I'm over her."

"But if he wasn't," 2 said firmly, standing between them, "you should realize, 9, that this decision doesn't fall to you. The choice is 7's."

"Well, of course," 9 said. "I have too much respect for her to expect anything else."

All three of the "tinkerers" looked outside of their secret hollow. 7 was engaged in a friendly sparring match with 8, her agility a fit match for his brute strength.

"She is irresistible, though," 9 muttered.

"Gorgeous," 5 agreed quietly.

9 turned to his friend. "Do you… do you think she'll have me?"

"I think she will," 5 said.

"I hope so," 2 said. "But don't forget to remember what we're made of."

"What's that?" 9 wondered.

"Human soul," 2 replied, tapping his own chest. "Generally, a good thing—but wholly unpredictable. If 7 believes you aren't compatible with her, there's nothing you will ever do to change that."

9 nodded.

"Tell her," 5 said.

"Tell her what?"

"Do you love her?" 5 asked.

"Of course I do. I love everybody."

"But you really, really love 7," 5 pestered.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I do."

"Tell her," 5 said simply.

9 looked into the town again. 7 had 8 pinned to the ground, a sharp stick poised against his throat. Her laughter echoed across the distance.

"I couldn't possibly," 9 said. "Not now."

"Take your time," 2 said. He hugged 9. "Best of luck to you, friend."


	7. No Matter What

**Chapter 7: No Matter What**

7 ran and jumped. Not for her life… happily. She was frolicking. When was the last time she had done that? It was nearly unheard of in their way of life, though the more childish and irresponsible members of the group—such as the twins or 6—had been known to do a little dance every once in a while.

7 found herself in a low valley. On the highest peak surrounding her, she saw 9, waving to her ecstatically.

"9!" she called.

"7," he replied, his voice full of laughter. "Come get me, 7!"

7 grinned and rose to that challenge. She began to run up the mound… but found herself tripping, her feet sliding under the slick sides of the mountain.

Not only that, but the entire valley was closing in on her… the mountains coming closer together, actively trying to crush her. They _were_ going to crush her… there was no way she could get away.

"9!" she shrieked.

He was nowhere to be seen… and she was trapped, trapped in a tiny, lightless prison the exact shape of the number seven.

And it was becoming smaller.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

7 sat bolt upright. If stitchpunks could sweat, she would have been cold and wet—as it was, without sweating she couldn't really relieve the stress she felt, and that was altogether worse.

"I can't do this anymore," she said aloud. "I've got to get out of here."

Turning, she tripped over 9's extended hand. He had tried to reach out for her during the night, but hadn't been close enough to her, or courageous enough to get closer.

"7?" 9 muttered. "What's going on?"

"I've had enough of this place," 7 said. "If I don't see the rest of the world, I'll lose my mind completely."

7 did a back-flip off the balcony of the building they had taken as their shelter that night, landing gracefully on her feet. 9 followed by shimmying down the wall.

"7, where are you going?" 9 demanded.

"To find my helmet," she said. "I lost it near the barbed-wire fence where we destroyed the Machine. Help me look for it."

9 didn't understand what was happening, but he complied. The fencing was out in the open plains, closer to the town than to the factory, but it was still a long walk for people six inches tall.

Finding it wasn't difficult, though. Nothing was displaced out in the emptiness.

7 put on the helmet. She had made it out of the body of a long-dead bird who she had shared a cage with—the top of its skull formed a visor, which was plumed by the bird's own feathers; 7 had even fashioned a pair of earrings out of the bird's bones, which, as she had no ears, simply dangled off the edges of the helmet.

9 was finally awake and alert. "7, why do you want your helmet all of a sudden?"

7 also managed to find her weapon and shield. "Well, you said it yourself," she said. "There just might be _something_ out there, and I want to be prepared for good encounters and bad."

"You're leaving?" 9 muttered. "Where?"

"I'm thinking that way," 7 said, pointing through the town, away from the factory. "The farthest we've ever been is to the factory… and, I'd actually rather keep _away_ from the factory, so I'll just head in the exact opposite direction."

7 marched purposefully forward. 9 followed. "But, 7, what are you going to do out there?"

"I don't know," she said. "Anything. But I can't stay in this town any longer."

"But…" 9 tried to articulate. "Things are finally going well! All nine of us, together and safe. We can do anything if we all keep together! Don't you want that kind of stability?"

"You can call it stability," 7 said, "but it does nothing but drive me crazy. I _can't_ live my entire life in one place. I'm the kind of person who needs to be out _doing_ something."

9 tried to comprehend that… but found that he couldn't. To him, living his entire life in one place sounded absolutely perfect. He didn't want to leave the town, the only atmosphere he had ever known. He had all the life he needed right there.

"Well, that's one thing we most certainly _don't_ have in common," he finally had to admit. "But… but I'll come with you, 7."

"Knew you would," 7 said.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

All nine of them sat around a light bulb mounted on a post. They looked out into the distance, the unknown expanses of the world.

"I told 7 that things would be best if all of us stuck together," 9 said.

"And I told 9," 7 said grimly, "that I'm going no matter what, so if somebody wants 'the power of all', you're going to have to come with me."

2 stepped forward. "Well, I understand your free spirit," he said. "And we'll all gladly stay with you… but we need time to gather our supplies! We do have lives here in this town."

7 shrugged. "That's not a problem," she said. "Pack all you want, but I'm going right now. If it doesn't take more than a day, you can catch up to me." 7 lowered her helmet and ran off at her top speed.

Everyone's gaze followed her, until 5 turned to 9. "What is your take on all of this?" he asked.

All other eyes turned to 9 as well, who wouldn't look away from 7's retreating figure. He didn't move when he said, "I love her so much."

5 nodded, as if that was the only answer that 9 needed to give. And indeed, 9 had nothing more to say. He plucked the light-staff out of the ground, turned it off, and followed 7 through the dusty wilderness.


	8. Price to my Nature

**Chapter 8: Price to my Nature**

9 and 7 ran side-by-side through the flat plains. She turned to grin at him every now and again, and those seemed like the greatest moments of 9's life.

Outside of the town, the ground was almost completely flat. In the world they knew, there were always obstacles to go around, things to expend time and energy… here, they felt as if they could just run forever.

Soon, the town was just a speck on the horizon. Then, not even that. It was just the flat dust of the world surrounding them, and still they ran on… until nightfall.

7 took one glance over her shoulder and then collapsed to her knees. "What did I just do?" she wondered. "I'm such a fool…"

9 looked around, wondering what had triggered that. "Well, we've been out one day, things are going great," he muttered to himself.

"I'm an idiot!" 7 snapped. "I thought I could keep myself under control, but no, here I go, just wandering out… ugh, I don't even understand myself sometimes!"

"7, I don't understand," 9 admitted. He lit his staff. "What's the matter?"

She looked up at him. "I get stir-crazy," she said. "I've told you that before. It happened in the sanctuary… it almost happened before the others were resurrected… and it happened again this morning. _That_ is my fatal flaw, my worst vice. I can't believe this."

"Where is this coming from?" 9 demanded. "That's not a fatal flaw you're describing. It's just a need to explore. I don't understand it, 7, but I find it endearing. I'm the one with the fatal flaw. That damned curiosity…"

"Oh, stop it. That's not a flaw. You've done nothing wrong…"

"Neither have you," 9 said. "What makes you think your free spirit is a harmful thing?"

"When has it ever done any good?" she demanded.

"Well, it made you a great fighter. And your exploring is the only reason anybody knows their way around the town. 3 and 4 idolize you…"

"But we… we didn't _need_ to explore. We didn't need to fight. Maybe things would have been best if we all stayed and…"

"No, don't think that way," 9 said. "I'll remind you that it was _you_ who slew the Cat Beast, and that was no small accomplishment. That would've been the only thing any you had to worry about if there had been no me…"

7 looked up at that moment. "Well… even though you haven't been around very long, I don't want to think about how things would be without you. I… I'm very, very glad that there _is_ a you."

9 wrapped an arm around her. "I'd pretty much do anything for you, 7," he admitted.

7 nodded. "I know you would. It's comforting."

"I don't think you have _any_ flaws," 9 said. His tone was measured. He had carefully thought over the words this time around. He knew what he was saying, and he meant it.

She examined her own body, all of the re-stitched cuts in her arms and legs. "Is there a price to my nature, though? All these scars… I've ruined a perfectly good piece of craftsmanship. You know? I'm just a bunch of rags now. It's grotesque."

9's eyes widened in shock. "Grotesque?" he demanded. "Don't be absurd, 7! The scars aren't ugly at all. They give you…"

"Do not say 'character', or I swear I'll punch you," 7 snarled.

"Okay, then. Not character… beauty."

7 stared. 9 wanted to backtrack, or just shut up, but he knew he was at the point of no return.

He took a deep breath and continued. "You're beautiful, 7, and the scars are records of the things you've done. Outward reminders to everyone about who you are. The world's greatest warrior! And that makes you more beautiful than you would be without."

A smile found its way to 7's face. "I wouldn't say… I'm not the… the hell with it, I _am_ the world's greatest warrior!" She pounded 9 on the shoulder affectionately. "How do you do it, 9? How do you love everybody so much? I don't know if I could have found it in my heart to forgive 1 for everything he did. And I can't imagine any other stitchpunk lifting my spirits the way you can! Maybe your curiosity is your major flaw. But your capacity to love? That's the good side of your coin. I like it very much."

The two stared into each other's eyes in silence.

"Well, you're sort of… wrong," 9 said. "I don't think there's anything special about my ability to love everybody. The only thing extraordinary is the way that I really, really, really love _you_."

7 reached for the hand that 9 had around her shoulders, and held his free hand in her own.

"Thank you for coming with me," 7 said. "You make me happy. Happier than I've been in a while."

She leaned in, and he nearly fainted. Her burlap skin touching his own was more than he could handle.

Before they could truly sink into their embrace, 7's eyes snapped skyward.

"What's that up there?" she demanded. "Put out the light!"

9 twisted the light-staff and followed her gaze. A glowing green shape was descending on them.

They readied their weapons, reminded poignantly of the many seeker drones that the Machine had made. Perhaps they hadn't all been defeated… but hadn't they all been made of white cloth, not green? And none of them had been that big…

Beneath the enormous, round, glowing green orb, there was a box. It was woven, and big enough for a single human to rest in it comfortably—which of course meant the stitchpunks could easily make it a home.

And as the box came to the ground and 3 and 4 came tumbling out to greet them, 9 and 7 realized that's exactly what it was.

The twins pushed 9 and 7 into the box. All of them were there, and within the box were furnishings, places for them all to sleep comfortably, drawing easels, lab tables.

2 grinned at them. "Welcome home," he said.

"How long have you been working on this?" 7 breathed.

"Not long," 2 said. "You see, 7, we knew that though you could only be happy on the road, you still needed a home. So, we invented a home that can go on the road!"

"Brilliant," 9 said. "You guys are truly brilliant."

5 winked.

"8, the lever!" 2 said grandly.

8 pulled on a lever at the rear of the home, and the fire underneath the balloon flared, lifting them up.

"I like this," 9 said. "Wherever we go, we go together, and there's still a place we can call home." He peered over the lip of the box. The ground beneath was distant, but visible.

9 felt a hand on his back. He turned, seeing 7.

"I'm going to sleep," she informed him. "Before I say goodnight, I want to tell you 'thank you' and… and that I love you. That I'll always love you."

9 nodded, shaken. "Thank you," he said. "Goodnight."

7 hung up her helmet and curled up in one of the beds. 9 wondered whether he should have said more… but he decided against it. He was too tired.

So he got into the bed right next to 7's, reaching out to take her hand. They drifted off to sleep together as their new home floated through the night.


	9. Inspiring

**Chapter 9: Inspiring**

7 was awake, as usual, the very instant the sun came up. She scoped out her new home. Nine tiny beds dominated one of the walls. Masterfully created couches and easy chairs peppered the front, and the lab table was covered with metal, wood, and bone, enough to keep the group's tinkerers well-stimulated.

6 was awake, which was to be expected—6 had always been the only one who slept less than 7 did. He was scribbling away at an easel; no longer were the scraps covering his wall repeated images of the Talisman or the Beast. They were abstract, but if 7 had to guess, she'd say they were images of peace.

1 was awake as well, having relieved 8 of his piloting duties around midnight. He nodded curtly to 7.

7 finally turned to the other beds. 3 and 4 shared theirs, curled up and huddled together like small animals. 8 was sprawled lengthwise across his, his feet extending all the way to the next bed, crushing 5's chest. 7 stifled a laugh; she could hardly wait to see 5 have to extricate himself from under the feet.

9's hand dangled limply off the edge of his bed. 7 felt a bit of guilt, wondering when during the night she had let go of his hand.

7 knew, then, that it was the time to talk. Who to talk to? Not 6, though the fact that he wouldn't listen might come in handy. Certainly not 1.

Decisively, 7 overturned the twins' bed. They leapt to their feet, chattering angrily.

"Sorry," she said, grinning. "I wanted to talk to you."

She helped them upright their bed, and the three of them sat together.

"You know how inspiring I find 9, don't you?" she began tentatively.

They nodded.

"Well, that's… that's grown a lot. And I… oh, you guys, I think I love him."

They nodded again, then leaned in to hug her.

"Well, yes, I love you as well," she said. "But, no, I think there's more to it than that. Do you remember the sanctuary? When I gave 5 that little ultimatum?"

They stared at her, knowing now where this was going.

"It's like that," 7 said. "I always thought I wasn't interested in… in that kind of love. I didn't think it could happen with anybody. After all, every one of these yahoos made a pass at me at some time or another." Her hands swept the room. 3 and 4 looked down guiltily; they had both attempted to court 7 in the early days as well. Only 8, 6, and 5 had kept to it after the initial stages.

"But, you know, 9 is different from the others," 7 continued. "So very, very different. But… I've never seen any real flirtation from him, and that makes me wonder if he's worth pursuing. That would fit, wouldn't it? The only one I've ever actually had feelings for is the only one who doesn't want me…"

3 and 4 shook their heads firmly. 3 pointed his eyes to a blank white canvas on the wall, and played a clip.

The clip was black-and-white, grainy, and soundless. It depicted 7 and 9 at the crest of a hill. 7 was pointing out various landmarks around the town to 9. 7 recalled that day; the first day after the rain ended. 9 had been standing behind her, not saying a word. 7 had assumed that he was simply absorbing the information, but the clip showed that there was quite a bit more to it.

For the entire clip, as 7 chatted animatedly, 9 scarcely moved. He was just staring at her with what could only be described as pure admiration.

The clip was many minutes long, but 7 still felt disappointed when it ended. What she would give to see 9's face like that again…

"Wow," she said simply. "He… he must think I'm…"

4 struck a pose and batted his eyes.

"No," 7 said. "I was going to say, he must think I'm so cruel! He has to think that I've been ignoring him, dodging him… I just didn't know!"

3 and 4 both gestured grandly towards 9, reminding her that he was right there, that she could talk to him any time she wanted.

7 stared at him… stared and stared and stared… but she couldn't take one step toward him. It was maddening! Why couldn't she just go up there, and wake him up as thoroughly as she had the twins?

"I can't do it," she muttered.

"You've fought like a suicidal madwoman against every monster we've ever encountered… yet you can't even tell 9 that you desire him. Sometimes, I truly think I'm the only member of this group who isn't a complete lunatic."

That was 1. He had been listening in while he steered the balloon.

7 scowled. "1, you say anything about this to 9, and I'll throw you overboard."

1 smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said.

5 woke up then. "Oh, hell," he muttered, noticing 8's feet on his chest. He slapped 8's feet, but he barely stirred.

7 covered her mouth, suppressing her laughter.

"Wake up, 8!" 5 bellowed.

8 woke up screaming. He lifted his feet off of 5 and stood up, before abruptly passing out again, this time with his entire massive body weighing down 5.

"Damn it!" 5 snapped, trying to shove the hulking brute off.

7 laughed loudly, which seemed to immediately wake 9. He happily bounded over to her, 3, and 4.

"Good morning," he said.

"Hi, 9," she said. "Look at that."

5 continued to shove on 8, who was sleeping soundly. "Somebody help me over here!" he snapped.

9 laughed.

6 skittered over to them, holding one of his drawings. "7 and 9," he said. "Look, look. 7 and 9."

7 turned to the picture. She expected another abstract, but was shocked to find a very clear depiction of herself and 9 engaged in a passionate lip-lock. She snatched the drawing and crumpled it up, turning uneasily to 9… but his attention was fully occupied by 5's predicament. Relieved, 7 let out a breath.

1 chuckled rudely. She glared at him.

"You need to learn to have a private conversation," 1 said smugly.

"I didn't think he was actually paying attention," 7 retorted.

9 turned back. His eyes went to 6, then to the wall where he had pinned up most of his drawings. "Hey, 6, what's that?" he asked, pointing to one of them.

6 turned. The drawing was of a bird, but of no bird that any of them had ever heard of. Its tail was long and plumed, and instead of two wings and two feet, it had four clawed wings. Its beak was full of needle-sharp teeth.

"Yeah, what _is_ that?" 7 asked.

"Stephenie," 6 replied. "Her name is Stephenie. She is a machine… a machine made in the image of the Microraptor, one of the last dinosaurs discovered by man before the machines took them all…"

It was the longest sentence 6 had said in any of their memories—not to mention the most sense he had ever made. "Did you just make this up?" 7 said gently. "It's very creative."

"No," 6 said. "No, I saw her… I saw her."

"Where?" 7 demanded.

6 tapped on his own head. "In here," he said.

"Oh," 9 said. "You had a dream?"

"No, no!" 6 said, frustrated. "I saw her! She's coming! She's coming here. She's coming for us."

9, 7, and the twins exchanged nervous glances.

"Oh, don't listen to him," 1 said. "I learned long ago to ignore him."

9 unzipped himself and pulled out the Talisman. "He wasn't wrong about _this_," he said.

1 frowned, scanning the rest of them. If 9 hadn't been the first to listen to 6, then they would all be dead… their tormented souls trapped within a sleeping Machine.

"Keep an eye out, then," 1 said.

7 turned to 6. "When is Stephenie coming, 6?" she said. "Can you tell us when?"

"Now," 6 said. "Right now. Right now."

Something nudged the balloon basket, knocking over a few of the lab supplies.

"Right now!" 6 screamed.


	10. There She Is

**Okay, time for an Author's Note. I tend to do a lot of these.**

**Well, I'd like to thank Star's Snowflake, who has posted the most reviews, makes me feel good. Thank you very much. And to Lake Rodary, who is the only other person who's given me more than one review, and is also rather encouraging, thank you as well.**

**Anyway, that's only two people. I notice that _seven_ people have put this on Alerts. Hello, seven people! Could I trouble you seven people for a couple of reviews? Or do I update too fast?**

**I'm trying to work on a way to ask for more reviews without seeming like a jerk. I'm doing my best here, and I'm just asking for a bit more input. Pwease?**

**Chapter 10: There She Is**

Six pairs of eyes peeked over the rim of the balloon basket. 2 and 8 were still asleep, and 5 continued to struggle under the sleeping 8—a struggle that didn't seem so comical anymore.

"There she is," 6 said with wonder.

Stephenie was plainly mechanical, but covered in dazzling blue feathers—a deep blue that had no place in the war-torn landscape the stitchpunks knew.

The feathered machine, barely a meter in length, was flying away at a terrific speed; none of her four wings were flapping at all, but she managed to turn around and rocket back toward the floating home.

"She's tiny!" 7 commented, surprised. "We can take her." She lowered her visor and prepared her weapon.

1 held 7 back. "If we could fight on the ground, I might agree with you," he said. "But we're in the air—by all appearances, her domain, not ours." 7 frowned, having to acknowledge the withered veteran's wisdom. "If she punctures the balloon," 1 continued, "we all die. We'd best be careful."

9 picked a sewing needle off the lab table and loaded it into 5's crossbow. "Let's try this," he said.

He shot at Stephenie's wing. She shuddered, but kept coming at her same speed.

"Get off me, you giant stinking lump!" 5 yelled.

He finally managed to extricate himself from underneath 8, and snatched the crossbow from 9.

"See how she deals with this," 5 said darkly. He lit a match, and loaded _that_ into the crossbow. He prepared the flaming missile for a shot.

"Wait!" 1 yelled. "If the burning thing lands on our home—"

1 stopped short as 5's attack missed.

"Oh," 1 said. He smirked. "Well, never mind then."

Stephenie perched on the edge of the basket. Despite her size, she weighed very little, and scarcely overbalanced the home at all.

"Humans," she said in a disdainful, female voice. "This is not your place. This is _our_ place. Leave now."

"Humans?" 7 said. "Do we look like humans to you?"

Stephenie's glittery red eyes surveyed them. "Your deception does not fool me," she said. "Beneath that weak burlap coating, you reek strongly of _soul_."

7 turned to 9. "I told you," she said simply.

9 shrugged, and tensed himself for the fight.

5 hurled a curved knife at Stephenie, who leapt up and dove over the edge of the basket.

1 leaned over the edge. "Where'd she go?" he said quietly.

7 hopped up, balancing herself on the lip of the box. "Hey, 9, come here," she said.

9 joined her, having more difficulty keeping his balance.

"You trust me, 9?" 7 said slyly.

"Of course."

"Enough to pitch yourself over the edge on my signal?"

9 blinked. "Um…"

"Great. Now!"

7 grabbed 9's wrists and flung both of them into the empty void.

But Stephenie came beneath them at the exact moment for them to have a firm grip on her back.

9 stared at 7 in disbelief. In response, she laughed dangerously.

"That's not the kind of thing you can try again," 9 muttered.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Back in the basket, 1 glared as Stephenie came around for another strike, bearing 9 and 7 on her back.

"Somebody take the balloon's controls!" he said tersely.

3, 4, and 6 did so.

5 tried aiming his crossbow, but was hesitant to shoot.

"What are you waiting for?" 1 demanded.

"You _want_ me to hit 7 or 9?" 5 snapped.

"I think they'll forgive you," 1 said sarcastically. "We need to take down that bird!"

"I'm not risking the loss of our leader," 5 retorted. "And that's 9, if you didn't catch that."

1 scowled.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Stephenie did a barrel roll, trying to shake the two clinging stitchpunks off. They held on tight. Stephenie aimed for the balloon, ready to puncture it.

7 twisted Stephenie's neck to the side, and it acted as a rudder, sending the bird veering off… sharply toward the ground.

"7!" 9 yelled.

Stephenie swooped low over the ground and went back up. 7 saw 1's eyes peering over the edge, then quickly retreating back into the basket. Stephenie shook a second time, this time causing 9 to lose his grip and fall through the air.

7 grabbed his hand.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"She's coming back around!" 1 reported. "Pull up!"

"No!" 5 yelled. "Not up! Down!"

"What?!" 1 snarled. "If we go down, she can still get to the balloon!"

"Yeah," 5 said. "And if we go up, 9 and 7 fall to their deaths. Take us down!"

3, 4, and 6 looked confused, turning from 5 to 1. They didn't know who to listen to.

1 leapt up to the controls himself, ready to pull down. 5 fought him for it. As they made eye contact over the controls, they felt that this had happened before.

"I see all the time you spent dead hasn't improved your personality much," 5 said darkly.

"Nor yours," 1 shot back. "Still a disobedient fool, lacking in any tactical wisdom whatsoever."

5 growled, and as Stephenie returned, the balloon stayed exactly where it was.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

9 felt his shoulder ripping, 7's grip loosening, as Stephenie shot straight for the balloon.

"7," 9 said. "7, I… I… about the way we love each other…"

"I know, 9," 7 replied glumly. "I know. Me too."

Miraculously, they saw the balloon drop. Stephenie clipped a wing on the edge of the basket, tumbling into the home.

7 and 9 landed on a bed, knocked out cold.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Stephenie tried to stabilize herself and stand, but a stick jabbed into the back of her neck and held her in place.

It was 2. Nobody knew how long he'd been awake, but it was apparent that he'd be able to claim this kill as his.

"Do you understand what I'm saying to you?" he said gently to Stephenie. "Do you understand my language?"

"Yes," Stephenie said.

"Then I offer you the chance to surrender," 2 said. "We are _not_ human. We mean you no harm. Let us pass through this area peacefully, and you shall be allowed to return to your home unscathed."

"I won't bargain with you," Stephenie snarled.

"Then I regret what I shall have to do," 2 said.

2 lifted his staff for the killing strike. Stephenie rolled over and jabbed a spiny tongue into 2's eye.

2 collapsed his staff and jabbed it lengthwise into Stephenie's mouth, locking it much too wide open.

"Let us pass through this area peacefully," 2 repeated.

Stephenie stared, her eyes glinting angrily. Finally, realizing the precarious position she was in, she turned and flew off, her jaw still pried open by the stick.


	11. Have to Find Out

**Chapter 11: Have to Find Out**

9 stirred. Opening his eyes, he saw only pure white. His face was pressed against something, and he found his lips brushing against it… it felt pleasant.

Something underneath him shifted, and he backed away. To his surprise, he realized that the white void he saw, the pleasant surface against his lips, was the back of 7's head. He had landed on top of her, and now she was rolling over to look him in the eyes.

"9," she said blankly.

"Um… I, um… ha-ha…" 9 stammered.

Then 7 grinned broadly. "9," she said again, happily this time.

She cupped his face in her hands, and lifted her head. She kissed him tenderly. Closing his eyes, he responded. He moved his lips all around hers. He didn't know what he had been expecting her to feel like, every time he dreamed of this moment—perhaps a whole lot of burlap. But the result was something more than that. He held her tightly, stroking the small of her back with a single finger, and their lips stayed tightly together, moving in sync.

Neither of them were thinking coherently, but it was clear in their heads: this had to be true love.

"Mmm," 7 muttered. Then, "Oh!"

She pulled away a little. "Oh, 9," she said. Her voice and face embodied happiness.

Then she turned her head and froze. 9 followed her gaze.

The rest of their group was gathered in a circle. Most of them had their attention in the direction of 9 and 7.

"Are you through?" 1 said with mock politeness.

9 leapt to his feet, and 7 rolled out of the bed. "Think so," she said. "What did we miss?"

1 chuckled. "While you were unconscious, or…?"

"Yes, thank you, while we were unconscious," 7 snapped. "That would be great."

"Well," 1 began, "2 here sent Stephenie off with a warning."

"You let her live?" 7 said. "Is that a good idea?"

2 shrugged. "Well, we'll just have to find out, won't we?" His eye jiggled and slid forward.

7 gaped. "2, what happened to your eye?"

"Absolutely nothing," 2 assured her, tightening it.

1 gestured to the group. "Sit down," he said.

7 and 9 were confused, then they noticed that the others were sitting in a circle, in numerical order. There were empty spaces on either side of 8; 7 and 9 sat down in those spots.

"I was just saying that I noticed a little… _dispute_ amongst us," 1 said. "We have no leader."

"9 is leader," 5 countered.

"Pay attention, fool," 1 snapped. "There was some confusion on the balloon. No one… knew who to listen to. A country with two kings is chaos. I suggest we elect a leader, by popular vote. And I vote… for me."

5 glared. "9 is leader," he said firmly.

"5, I don't—" 9 began.

"_You_ may say that, Cinq," 1 interrupted. "But have you bothered to learn what the rest of us want? I feel that the only way to do this right is to go around the circle… and vote."

"Wait, what did you call me?" 5 demanded.

"Cinq," 1 said condescendingly. "It's French for 'five'. As I was saying—I cast my vote for myself. I've proven myself as leader before, have I not?"

5 snorted again.

"Don't be angry, 5," 2 said. "He has the right idea. I'm next, then?"

"Of course," 1 said.

"Then I vote for 9," 2 said. "All around, I'd have to say that the youngest of our crew is the most thoughtful, the most kind at heart. That's what makes a leader."

3 held up his hands, then stared at them, as if realizing for the first time that he only had eight fingers. Embarrassed, he extended a single finger and pointed it at 9.

4 mimicked the gesture, pointing at 9 as well.

1 scowled. Already, he was outvoted…

"I vote 9," 5 said proudly. "I think he's been our leader since the day he arrived."

"9," 6 said, his voice cracking. He twiddled his thumbs excitedly. "9, 9, 9!" he said happily.

"9," 7 agreed. She beamed at him. "My choice has _always_ been 9… that will never change."

9 wilted under 7's wonderful smile.

"9," 8 rumbled. He glowered smugly at 1.

9 looked around nervously. He was leader. He'd been leader since 5 had cast his vote, no way around it.

1 stood up and leered at 9. "Well, then," he said. "I bow to my master." He bent at the waist.

All of the others were smiling at 9, looking very pleased. 9 didn't feel pleased.

"Well… all right," he finally said.

"Your orders?" 1 said, still sarcastically.

"Hey, I was gonna vote for 5," 9 said defensively.

Everybody laughed.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Later that night, 9 lay on his side, sleepless. Through barely-opened lenses, he watched 2 and 6 taking their shift as pilots—9 had decided that, since they now knew for a fact that there was danger, a pair of them should remain awake and piloting at all times. Coming up with that kind of order had come easily to him, but actually _giving_ the order had been something else entirely.

Something gently poked into his back. "9?"

He rolled over. 7 was in the exact same position he was, in her bed, on her side, wide awake and alert.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" 9 asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied.

"I _was_ sleeping before you poked me with the butt end of your spear," 9 grumbled.

7 laughed quietly, making sure she wasn't heard by anyone but 9. "No you weren't," she said. "I can tell when you're only pretending to be asleep."

9 considered that. What else could she tell about him?

"Was there something you wanted to ask me?" 9 wondered.

"Yes," she said. "I only wanted… well… will you kiss me again?"

9 deflated.

"What's wrong?" 7 demanded. "Shouldn't I have asked?"

"No, nothing wrong's," 9 muttered. "I just… I just wasn't sure that that… had really happened. I'm very glad you brought it up; now I know that it was real." He chuckled nervously. "Couldn't really have been sure before."

7 smiled. "It _was_ like a dream."

"A very good dream," 9 agreed. "But… no. I don't think I can."

7's eyes widened. "What?"

"I don't think I… should… kiss you again," 9 said.

"Why not?" 7 said.

"I'm frightened, 7," 9 admitted.

"Of what? Of me?"

"Maybe, yes," 9 said. "Of you. And of everything. Look at all that happened today. We've discovered we're not alone—more machines. More hunters. And I was elected leader. So it's my job to protect all of these people." He waved his hand.

"I guess that is intimidating," 7 said. "But why are you frightened of _me_?"

"I feel like… like if I indulge my feelings for you, that'll be one too many things for me to maintain," 9 said.

"I see," 7 said. "So… you think I would distract you? From the greater good? That's noble, I guess…"

"No," 9 said. "No, I'm not being noble at all. I'd like to tell you you're right, but I can't lie to you…"

"What is it, then?" 7 whispered, beginning to worry.

"I'm afraid…" 9 said. "I'm afraid that if I take on this many responsibilities, it'll lead to me making some terrible mistake down the road. I'm afraid of the consequences that _I_ might bring about if there's too much on my mind. What I'm saying is… I'm cowardly and selfish. And that's… that's what led me to this decision."

7 cocked her head. "You are _not_ cowardly and selfish," she said. "You're very brave, and very kind. Anybody can tell you the same thing. I guarantee it." She reached for his hand. He didn't take it.

"I'm terrible," he muttered.

"You're not," she insisted. "You're not. Please… I understand what's going on. It's not as bad as you think."

He didn't answer.

"You're not capable of being as bad as you think you are," 7 said.

He sighed.

"So… we won't be together, then?" 7 asked.

"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.

"Don't be," she said. "We're… friends, though. Right? Aren't we?"

"Of course we are," he said. He finally took her hand. "Of course we're friends. I don't think I could live if that wasn't the case."

When the appointed time came, when 5 and 8 woke to relieve 2 and 6 for piloting, 7 and 9 had fallen asleep, contentedly holding hands.


	12. Wasn't There Before

**Chapter 12: Wasn't There Before**

9 woke up to a strange sense of vertigo. He realized that for the first time in a couple of days, he was on solid ground. The balloon had landed sometime during the night.

9 gently laid 7's hand down on her chest, then climbed out of the basket. "Whoa," he muttered.

He was at the bottom of an enormous mound, piled impossibly high. It seemed to be made of some kind of metals… in fact, it was made entirely out of many, many cars.

He saw 8 holding up the hood of one of the cars. He hopped out of the box and climbed up the mound, going to meet him.

"What's going on here?" 9 asked. "What is this place?"

Within the hood, 5 and 2 were scurrying around the ancient engine.

"What's up, 9?" 5 called.

"Not much," 9 said. "What's happening here?"

5 popped out of the engine. "I spotted this junkyard early this morning. I woke up 2, and we decided to raid it. You can never have too many spare parts! Batteries, wires. We're taking all that the balloon can handle."

9 looked around. "How did this happen? Did cars fight in the war or something?"

2 chuckled from within the engine. "My best guess is that this was a junkyard _before_ the war. You can see on the other side of this pile, there's a highway. This is where man returned his cars after they passed their prime…" He emerged with a sharp-edged gear. "Man always preferred getting something completely new over fixing what he had," 2 said solemnly.

"Well, I'm grateful for that," 5 said. "Because I have to be honest—scavenging is a great hobby. I live for it."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The others awakened as the day went by. Everyone found great supplies among the junk—both from the cars and things that had been left inside them.

6 found a small rubber ball. He dropped it from a great height, and it bounced all the way back to his eye level, and further! He caught it in his hands, laughing wildly. His game continued the entire day—if the ball ever got out of his reach, he simply climbed down and brought it back.

7 emerged from the trunk of a car, bearing sheets of fabric, each sheet perfectly square and several times the height of a stitchpunk. Each one, as well, a different color—a very vibrant color.

"Look at this!" she said. "Look at all of this cloth! Why would they have thrown this perfectly good stuff away? It's so beautiful…"

7 fingered a lavender sheet of cloth.

"They've never been used," 9 offered. "Maybe they just… forgot about it."

7 shrugged. "Well, I'm keeping it," she said. "All of it. So many wonderful colors… so soft…" She looked around at the junkyard. "You know," she said, "I think I could stand to make this my home for a long time."

9 smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah," 7 said. "Does… does anybody mind that?"

A general chorus rose up—they could definitely stay there for a good length of time.

7 looked at 9, grinning broadly. "9, I think we may have a place to call home. At least for a while."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

7 went to sleep on the roof of the car at the very top of the junk pile. Her dreams were dominated by kissing 9… both the memory, and new fantasies of where they might do it… watching a sunset, or riding down a river…

7 found her eyes open before she was ready for her dream to end. She thought back to it, then chuckled to herself.

"You're turning into a girly-girl, 7," she muttered. "That's not right… world's greatest warrior. Gotta have _those_ dreams. Hunting and stalking dreams… much more becoming."

She realized that in saying "world's greatest warrior", she was quoting 9, and that brought back the flood of memories and wishes again.

"I'll talk to him," she decided. "Tell him that I don't give a damn if he's afraid of me, I freaking want him… yeah, that'll do it. That'll get us both what we want…" She knew that 9 wanted her… didn't he?

7 realized that she had been speaking aloud at the exact same moment she realized she was not alone at what seemed to be the top of the world. "6?" she said, embarrassed at having been heard.

6 looked up from his latest drawing. "Morning, 7," he said. His tone was absent, even though she evidently had his full attention.

7 walked up to him. "6… don't mention that you heard me talking to myself. Specifically, don't repeat what I said."

6 stood up and held up his picture. "Van," he said.

7 looked at it. It was definitely a van. "That's great, 6," she said. "But really, please, don't… don't let word get around."

"Van," 6 said aggressively. "Van! Van!"

"Yes, I can see that it's a van…" 7 said irritably.

"No," 6 whispered. "Not _a_ van. _Van_…"

7 slumped. "You lost me, 6," she said.

6 pointed. On the flat earth, some twenty yards away from the junkyard, a simple gray van sat alone. It was in perfect condition, upright—and facing them.

7 frowned. "That particular ruin was _not_ there when I went to sleep last night," she muttered. "I would have noticed it."

6 sat back down and began to draw again. 7 glanced at it, but he seemed only to be drawing the van again.

"This is a bit odd," 7 said.

She slid down the hood of the car, and ran all around the pile, until every stitchpunk was awake.

"Everybody up," she yelled. "There's something you should see."

Soon, all nine of them were on top of the car. 7 pointed out the lone van.

"Look at it, just sitting there," she said. "It definitely wasn't there before, unless I miss my guess. Somebody would have noticed it out there all by itself, right?"

6 stood up again. His drawing was finished—but it wasn't just of the van. It was the van armed with giant machine guns.

"Van," 6 said with a tone of finality.

9 took the drawing. "Well, this does seem odd," he admitted. "I think we should take a look at it."

"Give the order," 1 said, still a little bitterly.

"We're going," 9 said firmly. "And we're investigating."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Careful," 6 whispered.

It was several minutes later, and the group was approaching the lone van.

"Van is powerful," 6 said, wringing his hands. "And watch for Lang, the glass man…"

9 turned to stare. 6 never stopped surprising him—or anybody else, he judged from the looks on their faces.

"6, how do you know these things?" 9 demanded.

"I see them," 6 whispered. "Right here in front of my eyes… like you see words on a page…" He looked up at 9. "I don't like it, sometimes."

7 smiled maternally at 6.

"Watch for Lang, the glass man," 6 repeated abruptly. "Dangerous!"

"Duly noted," 9 muttered. "And the van?"

"Not _the_ van," 6 insisted. "Van!"

"I don't know what that means, but it sounds ominous," 7 muttered.

"Van," 2 said. "It's a name, isn't it? Van?"

The two machine guns in 6's drawing burst from the sides of the van and aimed for the group of stitchpunks.

"Good call, human," Van said in a thick male voice.

7 backed up a step. "Well, there goes my 'home' theory," she muttered.


	13. Removed

**Chapter 13: Removed**

"We're not human," 9 said quickly. Van aimed his guns. "We're not human, we're not—scatter!" 9 finally yelled.

The nine of them took off in different directions as bullets peppered the ground.

"Not human?" said a different male voice, this one more piercing. "Hold your fire, brother, let's test their claims."

9's eyes darted back and forth. He couldn't locate the source of that voice.

"Beware the glass man," 6 whispered. "Lang, the glass man."

Finally, 9 spotted him. He was no taller than a stitchpunk, may even have been able to pass for one of them—but for the fact that he was perfectly transparent. He stepped up to 9.

"You seem to lead here," Lang said.

"Yes, I do," 9 said, more confidently than he felt. How to fight an opponent he could barely see? He'd have to work hard to make sure this didn't come to blows.

"Tell me, because I'm curious," Lang said. "What might you be? I see gears and wires and yet… the scent of a soul has me in its funky green fist."

9 blinked. "Um… sorry, what?"

"Bad analogy, Lang," Van called.

"Shut up, buffoon," Lang snapped. To 9, he continued, "Do tell. I'd simply… _love_ to get to know somebody like you."

His voice dripped sarcasm and condescension. "Hey, 1, I think you'd get along fabulously with this fellow," 5 called.

"Our people are called stitchpunks," 9 said to Lang. "We were built like machines, but born of a human soul. The last remaining human gave his soul to us."

Lang scoffed. "Last remaining human? Clearly, you've been hiding in a hole."

"Or a balloon," Van offered.

"Silence!" Lang snarled. He looked around at all of them, counting. "Stitchpunks. There are nine of you?"

"Yes," 9 said.

"No others?"

"None."

"And your names?"

"We have none," 9 said. "The only names we have are our numbers, one through nine."

"Careful," 6 said in a carrying whisper. 9 glanced over to him. Was he giving away too much information?

Lang noticed 9's sudden tension. "This is a lonely life," he said. "We could use the company of nine… able young machines. Perhaps we can get rid of those… _inconvenient_ little pieces of soul, and you could join us."

9 stood up taller. "We only want peace," he said. "Will you let us go on our way?"

"If that's the way it has to be," Lang said. "And you're sure you want to keep those souls? We can remove them, easy. In fact, I insist."

9 backed up a step, brandishing his staff. "And I'll have to insist that you don't," he said. "If our souls are removed from our bodies, we die."

"I see," Lang said. "Well, let's do it that way then."

9 knew, then, that he would have to fight—and he decided to take the first blow while he knew where the nearly-invisible machine was. He swung his staff. Lang leapt over the curving arc and responded with a palm straight to 9's face.

9 teetered off-balance, and knew immediately that he had lost the advantage. While Lang was moving, he would be nearly impossible to spot.

9 tried to shrug off the first few punches as he ran straight toward Van. The bullets starting spraying—the only way to fight would be in close range, where the guns wouldn't be as effective. He leapt onto Van's hood, and sure enough, the firing stopped. Van couldn't risk damaging himself.

Lang came sprinting after, and 9 dropped onto his back. Lang jumped up, and changed his direction in mid-air, straight for 9.

9 dodged to the left. Lang expected that—and 9 knew that Lang would expect it. At the very last second, 9 returned to his original upright position, and Lang slammed straight into Van's hood.

The hood dented, and Van went limp, his lights blinking off. Van was dead for certain—but Lang simply stood up. Clearly, he was tougher than one would expect a glass man to be.

"You killed Van," Lang hissed.

"_You_ killed Van," 9 shot back.

Lang growled. "I'm gonna get you."

9 ran back to the car pile. Lang pursued, but 9 managed to shake him long enough.

Halfway up the pile were the sheets of fabric that 7 had found. 9 climbed up to them, and selected one in a deep royal purple.

"What are you trying to do?" Lang demanded.

With every attack Lang gave, the only defense 9 offered was to swipe the purple fabric across the path of the blow. Lang cut through it, leaving it a tiny rag, ripped and tattered.

9 tossed it aside and faced Lang directly. Lang's chops and kicks were too fast for 9 to follow up with his heavy staff, so he simply dropped it, then grabbed Lang's hands.

Lang instantly looked terrified. 9 squeezed, and Lang squealed with discomfort.

Well, that was it, then. Lang was speedy and hardy—but not strong. 9 lifted him over his head and threw.

Lang fell the great distance to the ground. Before he could stand up, he found 8 looming over him with a monkey wrench. 8 jammed the wrench into Lang's face, killing him.

9 climbed back down the pile with the tattered purple rag.

"That was masterful, 9!" 7 said excitedly. "You almost took care of them alone!"

9 looked around. "That's true, I did," he said. "Where _were_ all of you?"

7 laughed. "Seriously, that was amazing," she said. "Almost as ingeniously well-done as when you defeated the Seamstress… did I ever tell you how incredible that was?"

"Can't say you did," 9 said, shrugging. He reached to Lang's body and pulled out one of his teardrop-shaped eyes. He took the strange purple cloth and used the eye as a clasp, attaching the two corners of it together. He presented it to 1. "The cape I owe you," he said proudly.

1's eyes widened. "Oh!" he said. "Well, I…" He took it, the souvenir of their fight. "A wonderful gift," he said finally. "I'll treasure it." For the first time in a while, 1's tone carried no bitterness or sarcasm. When he put on the cape, with Lang's eye as the centerpiece right on his chest, it was clear that he was genuinely pleased.

"It was very well done," 7 said. "I'm impressed with you."

"Thank you," 9 said.

7 paused, considering him. "Still no kissing?" she said.

"I'm sorry," 9 said. "I want to so badly…"

7 scowled. "We're gonna talk about this."

6 wringed his hands. "We should flee," he said. "Their siblings will find them… their siblings will be vengeful…"

"Siblings?" 7 said. "They have siblings? 6, you gotta tell us these things."


	14. Idiot

**Chapter 14: Idiot**

"9, come here," 7 said. "I need to talk to you."

He followed her to the road. Along the road was a ditch—7 jumped in. 9 followed her.

7 pinned 9 to the wall of the ditch by his shoulders… then found herself immediately retreating.

"Ah, I can't do it," she muttered. "I wanted to corner you aggressively, but one look at your face and I realized that's not going to play out…"

"Well, just… tell me what's on your mind, then," 9 said, shrugging.

"Well, I… I, um…" 7's entire speech had slipped from her mind. "Well, listen, 9, I… I'm in love with you…?" She raised her voice at the end, making it sound almost like a question. "And I know you're in love with me. Aren't you?"

"Yes," 9 said. "I am."

She grasped his shoulders. "Then let's be together!" she insisted. "A couple! It shouldn't be more complicated than that. And… and if you think it'll impede your abilities as leader, then step down as leader! Let 5 do it."

"It's not leadership I'm worried about," 9 said. "I know I could do that if I set my mind to it. But… I just get the feeling that no matter how much effort I put into loving you, I'll just… disappoint you. And you shouldn't be disappointed."

7 glared. "9, I couldn't possibly be disappointed. I'm absolutely mad for you! Okay? And… listen, don't try to pull out the old stops like, you're not worthy, or that I can do better. Maybe that could have worked in… the old world… but, no. In this world, _our_ world, that just isn't gonna fly. See, I _know_ everybody in the world. The world, population: eight guys and me. And none of them makes me feel the way you do."

"That's what I'm scared of," 9 muttered. "That of all of them, who you've known for years, you pick _me_? I'm just… terrified of that notion. I mean… you know, 5 used to really like you. Maybe that could come back…"

"I don't want 5," 7 snarled. "I want you! You and me!"

"I know," 9 said. "I want you and me as well… but I don't think I'm brave enough to go through with it."

"9… there's no reason for that!" 7 pleaded. "There's no possible way you could make a mistake with _us_. And I want that! I want us!" She took a step back. "I don't handle it too well when I don't get what I want," she muttered. "And I know this has to be up to both of us… but you're wrong, 9! We can do it!"

"Okay," 9 muttered. "Look, I… if you really want this… I'll try. I don't want to be on your bad side."

"Too late," 7 said. "I'm… I'm just so angry. I thought you were made of a bit more than this. It'll take me a while to work through your deception." The last word came out a sneer.

7 leapt in the air and stuck her spear into the wall of the ditch. Before she even began going down, she used the spear as a pivot, and flung herself back onto solid ground, even managing to tug her spear back out of the wall as she flew.

9 wasn't that nimble. He'd have to find his own way out of the ditch. He saw a climb a few yards away, and took it.

To his surprise, he saw 8 huddled among the stones in the ditch. "8?" he said.

8 spun, alarmed, and 9 saw that he was clutching a small magnet.

"8, where did you find that?" 9 demanded.

"I… um… uh… this is for you," 8 said, offering it to 9.

9 chuckled and took it. "Thanks, but I try to keep away from these things. I'm gonna hide this from you."

8 shuffled his feet guiltily and went up the climb. 9 watched him go, checked that he was completely alone in the ditch, then stared at the magnet. On impulse, he aimed it toward his forehead.

His senses were instantly assailed by crackling electricity… he could barely perceive anything around him, not his current surroundings or any memories either. The nothingness was not comfortable… but it was a hell of a lot better than the crushing pressure of being leader, the fear of vengeful machines, the anguish of loving 7…

Motion in his peripheral vision finally got his attention, and he flipped the magnet downward. 8 was staring down at him from the rim of the ditch.

"Good stuff, huh?" 8 said, grinning.

9 stormed up the climb and thrust the magnet into 8's hands. "Get rid of it!" he snapped. "And do _not_ let me catch another of those awful things in your possession ever again!"

He started back for the junkyard. He noticed 5 and 2 standing near the ditch… very close to where 7 had exited, if he had to guess.

"Did… did you guys hear what happened down there?" 9 said nervously.

2 nodded. "I understand how you feel," he said. "There are many pressures…"

"That's your opinion. Here's my take," 5 said. He stepped up to 9, put a hand on his shoulder, and took a deep breath in. He let it out: "Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot…"

"Okay, fine," 9 interrupted. "Thanks for telling me how you feel."

"Let me finish!" 5 said.

"All right. Go on."

"Thank you. Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot… idiot… idiot!"

"You're finished now?" 9 said sarcastically.

"No," 5 said. He slapped 9. "How could you let her go, you stupid moron lunatic psychopath?"

"I wasn't trying to let her go!" 9 snapped. "I was only thinking…"

"Thinking!" 5 said. "Using your brain, is that it? Bad time! Bad time to be using your damned brain." He held up his fist again, then lowered it. "Listen, 9. I love her, and I love you. I want her to be happy and I want you to be happy. And maybe you can be happy with whatever it is you've got going here; but the only thing that can make _her_ happy is you."

9 sighed.

"And for the record," 5 said, "I don't _want_ my feelings for 7 to come back. That'd just be a hell of a lot of pain for me. But for you…" He paused, and closed his eye. "Yeah, with you, I can see it. I can see that the two of you could _never_ cause each other pain."

9 turned back to the junkyard. "I think we already have," he said.

"Well, get back there and see that it doesn't happen again," 2 said simply.

9 took a deep breath and ran all the way back. 2 and 5 followed at walking pace.

"Well, he's a tragically love-struck idiot, but at least he's _our_ idiot," 5 said.

"I admire the way you care for him," 2 said.

"Uh-huh," 5 said. He nodded, getting a bit choked up. "He's… he's my best friend. You hear about those… I never thought any of us would have one. But he is. My best friend. I hope 7 can forgive him."


	15. Yours and Mine

**Chapter 15: Yours and Mine**

6 clutched his drawings to his chest. 7 rubbed his back soothingly.

"6, please _try_ to explain," 7 said.

"I can't," 6 said. "I don't know how!" He scratched his head frantically, leaving ink stains behind.

"6, relax," she said. "Can you relax?"

6 plopped down onto his behind. 3 and 4 scurried over and cradled him.

"6, I just need…"

7 paused when she saw 9 coming, with 5, 2, and 8 trailing behind him. All the others were with her, trying to get some idea of what would happen next from 6.

9 smiled and waved weakly. 7 turned quickly back to 6. "Okay, 6, let's try this. Close your eyes… just close them… and tell me what you see."

6 slowly unfurled the drawings he had on his chest. "Five siblings," he said. "They are… five siblings." He spread the drawings out; some of them were familiar, some not. Though his eyes remained closed, he pointed to them in sequence. "Stephenie, Van, Lang, Hollywood, Alexis. Five siblings, forged of greed."

7 looked around anxiously. They were getting somewhere.

"They battle the men… in their territory," 6 continued. "They wait for men to die out, yet they know… they know they cannot accomplish it. They must harness humanity to wipe it out, and therein lies the paradox of their existence…"

"Am I the only one who is not getting a damned word of this?" 1 muttered. 7 shot him a glare.

9 went up to 6 and crouched down. "6," he said quietly. "Open your eyes now. Can you tell me where they live, 6?"

6 pointed. "Out there," he said. "Not far."

"Will they find us if we stay?" 9 asked.

6 bit his lip. "Yes," he finally said.

9 looked at the drawings. "Stephenie we know," he muttered. "Lang and Van we killed. 6, who are these others?"

"Hollywood and Alexis," 6 said. "Hollywood and Alexis lead. He is fierce, and she is deadly… and when they stand together none can stop them."

"Then we separate them," 7 said.

"Wait," 9 said. "6, how big are they?"

6 looked confused.

"Here… 6, draw yourself next to both of them, so we know how big they are compared to us."

6 concentrated hard on his drawing of Alexis. Alexis was a hunched figure with the head of a vulture, stocky legs, and long, spindly arms ending in hooks. She had two flexible, pointed tails and a spiny shell.

6 drew a picture of himself. He barely came up to Alexis' ankles.

7's eyes widened. "She's gigantic…"

6 looked up, and 9 nodded his approval. "Continue," he said.

Hollywood looked exactly like a dragon: serpentine, with clawed arms and legs, and enormous bat-like wings. Horns and spines adorned every inch of his body. When 6 drew himself to scale, he did nothing but make a dot on the paper.

"He's _that_ big?" 9 whispered.

6 tapped the dot. "Me," he said. "Me."

9 looked around at the group. "Okay," he said. "I have _no_ desire to fight these machines. We pack up the balloon and we go _far_ away from here!"

1 fumed. "We're hiding?"

"It's not hiding," 9 insisted. "6 says they don't leave their territory. We have the whole world out before us! I want everyone in the balloon basket, ready to go, by noon."

They all scattered. 6 packed up his drawings.

9 didn't have anything to pick up; he didn't care much for supplies, and kept what little he used on his person at all times—his light-staff, a small blade, the Talisman. Instead, he followed 7. She was retrieving the pile of multicolored fabric. She had it all held over her head when she noticed 9. She stopped in her tracks and chuckled.

"Is it okay that I keep this?" she said. "I like it a lot…"

"It's nice," 9 said.

7 smiled. "That was really neat, what you did. Repaying your little 'debt' to 1."

9 shrugged. "I didn't want to owe anybody."

"We could get a lot of use out of this," 7 muttered. "Maybe we can make sheets for our beds…"

"Our bed," 9 corrected. 7 stared. "Yours and mine," 9 clarified. "One bed… for just you and I."

7 set down the fabric. "9…"

"Listen, 7… I was so wrong, and I'm sorry. If I'm going to be leader, I don't want to do that without you by my side always."

"Quick change of stance," 7 muttered.

"Maybe what convinced me is how good you are with 6."

"Right," 7 said. "Exactly… you know, that's why I wanted to be a warrior. To protect the more innocent of the group, like 6 and 3 and 4. So, yeah, I'm a fighter, but through all of it I'm still… you know, a woman. And I really and truly thought that meant nothing… thought that it meant there was no place for me… before I met you."

"I love you, 7," 9 said. "With all that I possess, I love you."

7 nodded. "I feel the same," she said. "But… ugh! I'm still a bit ticked at you."

"Tell me how to fix it," 9 said instantly. "Tell me what I can do to make you feel better."

She stepped up to him. "I don't know," she said. "I have a few ideas… I don't know if I should punch you or slap you or just kiss you with fiery passion. Any of them would suffice, I think, to… relieve my tension, and get me to love you again."

"How about all of them, in that order?" 9 suggested.

They shared a laugh, then 7 made a mock-serious face. "All right," she said.

She drew back her arm for a punch. 9 took it stoically, then the slap. Finally, 7 wrapped her arms around 9's neck and gave him the most phenomenal kiss she could muster. He returned it tenfold, and their kiss went on for several minutes… they were so very happy.

Finally, 9 pulled away slightly. "We have to go," he reminded her.

7 lifted up all of the fabric. "I look forward to it," 7 said. "You and me… and a bunch of morons."

9 laughed. "Well, I… I very much look forward to us being… 'us'."

She kissed him lightly. "We'll always be us," she said. "Now, back to the balloon. Let's cover some ground and… see what the rest of the world looks like."


	16. Feet

**Chapter 16: Feet**

The balloon sailed east, away from the sunset. All nine stitchpunks tensed when a bronze shape appeared on the western horizon and hovered there, rotating slowly.

"Is that… is that him?" 2 breathed.

"Yes," 6 said.

"Remarkable," 2 whispered.

The shape went back to the ground, out of sight. "Is he coming after us?" 5 wondered.

"No," 9 said confidently. "We're leaving their area. We never have to worry about them again." He looked around at all their unmoving faces, revealing their perfect confidence in him. "All the same, when the time comes to sleep, our shifts should be bigger," he said. "Just to be on the safe side, at least until we're sure we're far out of their territory. First shift will be 3 and 4 piloting while 7 guards our back… then 1 and 2 piloting, and me on guard."

They all nodded in confirmation, and spread out for some before-bed activities. 5 shuffled a homemade deck of cards and dealt them out to himself, 2, 6, and 8.

9 settled into a loveseat, and 7 took the other side.

"Why didn't you give us a shift together?" she asked.

"I don't trust us," he said.

She laughed, then reclined on the arm of the couch and waved her foot in his face. He held it in his hand, kissing it.

"Hey, 9?" 5 called.

9 turned his head. "Yes?"

"Where are we going?"

"East," 9 said simply.

"I know that, but why?" 5 clarified.

"No reason," 9 said. "None at all."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

9 put an effort into sleeping soundly, knowing he would be roused at midnight. His dreams flickered by subtly; images of the others, mostly 7, living in a field of green grass, a flowing river, a growing tree.

It was a nice dream. He tried to hang onto it as long as he could when 7 woke him.

He let his eyes open slowly. 7 stood over him, grinning. "Midnight," she whispered.

"Have you seen anything?" he asked.

"Nothing," 7 replied. "I think we'll be safe for tonight… safe forever."

He kissed her, and as she took his place in the bed, he replaced her in the rear of the basket. In the front, he heard 1 and 2 whispering to each other.

As he watched the stars, the moon, the clouds, the nothingness, 9 tried to return to his dream. He even allowed himself to throw in some other details, but it just wasn't the same as dreaming it.

But it still kept him wonderfully occupied for hours and hours. The next time he turned to look at 1 and 2, the sun had begun rising.

"9!" 2 called. "Come over here."

9 hesitated.

"There's nothing at our backs," 2 said. "Come."

9 went to them. "Is there something amiss ahead, oldsters?" he said cheerfully.

"Oh, no, not at all," 1 said. 9 started climbing the wall to look, but 1 pulled him back down. "A moment," 1 said slyly.

"We've been talking, 9," 2 said. "About the world… and the war."

9 perked up. He never had truly gotten many details on the war, and he paid rapt attention to the eldest stitchpunks, those who had seen the most of it.

"Our discussion… we probably would never have realized it if not for 7," 1 said. "But before, when we've said 'the world'… we really meant our town. Only 7, with her little bout of cabin fever, would have thought of leaving. Our town is dead and silent…" 1 went silent then as well, thinking back.

"But what of the rest of the world?" 2 interceded, picking up the thread. "Can a war truly have encompassed the entire world? Can the entire world be lifeless?"

9 thought about that, then pointed to the Scientist's jeweled box. It was kept open, so that the mirror and the inscription, "HOPE", were plainly visible. The photo of the Scientist was pinned up next to it.

"In the message to me, the Scientist said that we're the last of humanity," 9 said.

"Yes, but when you brought that up to the glass man, he seemed to think differently," 1 said. "Our creator didn't know everything; we have no evidence that his life ever took him outside of the town." He glared at 6's drawings. "If he was wrong about these machines, he may very well have been wrong about life," 1 finished.

"What brought this up?" 9 asked.

1 and 2 pointed grandly to the platform where they steered the balloon. 9 climbed up to it and gasped.

To the south, at the bottom of a sharp incline, was a pile of destroyed walker machines. But running past it was a river. And upriver from the graveyard was… _green_. There was no other word for it. For at least a square mile, grass grew freely, shrubs and trees bore bright new leaves and shoots.

The river ran right through the middle, starting in the cave at the top of the incline. The river was rich in tiny fish. Frogs and turtles lurked on the banks, while insects, rodents, and even a big gray hawk clearly had homes and lives in this small oasis, so close to the dusty, war-torn planet and yet so far away from it.

"Hope…" 9 whispered. He didn't know any other words that could encompass what he felt at that moment.

1 and 2 were at his sides then, bringing the balloon down.

"I don't think there's even any point to asking," 1 said. "It's apparent that this is where we'll set up shop, get back on our feet. No doubt at all, am I right?"

9 nodded. The balloon had set down right on the river bank. He felt, rather than heard, that all of the others were awake, and gazing out at the field.

"Whoa," 7 said. "Is… is this where we'll be living now?"

"Yes," 9 said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "This is the place we've found."

"I never want to leave here," 7 whispered.

The place seemed to have that effect on all of them—one glance, and it was their permanent residence. The sight of nature stirred their souls like nothing else. Well, almost nothing else. The tightening embrace of 9 and 7 may have been a close contender.

"Now that's what I call a sanctuary," 5 said.

"No," 6 said. All eyes turned to him. He rushed back into the balloon and returned with a drawing, evidently a fairly old one—a landscape drawing that looked exactly like the place they now were. Across the top of the picture, 6 had written the word "HOME", and he tapped the word eagerly.

"Home, not sanctuary," he said. "Not sanctuary, home."

"Home," 7 repeated. "I like the sound of that… I like it very much." She leaned in close to 9 and whispered, "A home this big… there must be a private place for us."

9 smiled and nodded as all of them jumped down, feeling the grass beneath their feet—and, at times, as high as above their heads. 3 and 4 eagerly began flashing their lights onto each individual blade of grass they could see. The others spread out, enjoying the sights and sounds and scents of this gorgeous patch of world.

9 and 7 eagerly went off hand in hand to find their private place. They knew that, surely, not all of the burrows were occupied. They could find one to claim as their own.

And they were right, quite a few of the burrows on this hill were unoccupied. But some of them were more occupied than they could ever guess.


	17. Caverns

**Chapter 17: Caverns**

5 sat on the riverbank, observing the fish. All of them were tiny, and most of them were brightly-colored, though a few were dull gray.

He threaded a string through one of the needles that he used as crossbow ammunition. Making sure it was good and tight, he loaded it.

5 paused, realizing that 8 was looming over him.

"Hi, 8," he said cautiously.

8 only grunted in response, then sat down on the bank.

"Staring at the fish?" 5 said cheerfully.

8 nodded.

"Hey, I bet you I can catch one," 5 said.

8's head snapped up, and he glared suspiciously. "You can't catch no fish," he said.

"I know you think so. Hence the wager. In fact, I bet I can catch one before _you_ do."

8 thought about that, then cracked his knuckles. "Okay," he said.

"Let's begin," 5 said.

8 hefted his wrench and stared hard into the water. He started jabbing the wrench at every fish that passed, but it was only a few moments before no fish would go anywhere near that spot.

5 shot his crossbow into the water, then hauled the needle back in.

8 growled, knowing that 5 had the better strategy. Seeing 5 reload with a huge smile on his face, something occurred to 8, something unrelated to their bet. "5?" he said.

"Yeah?"

"When did you become fun?"

5 smiled and shrugged. "I honestly don't know, man. But I'm enjoying it."

8 nodded. "Me too."

5 shot the needle again. This time, a squishing impact was heard clearly by both of them.

"Ooh, I've got one," 5 said. "You'd better get your own before I get mine on land, or you don't win the prize!"

8 growled… then he hit 5 with the wrench and hauled in the catch for himself. It was an orange fish about two inches in length, and 5 had pierced it nearly through the tailfin.

"_My_ fish," 8 rumbled. "What's the prize?"

"The prize?" 5 said. "The prize is, you get a fish."

8 stared at the fish, then growled at 5 again. They both laughed.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

7 led 9 into a burrow under the roots of a tree.

"What do you think?" 7 said. "Inhabited?"

"Not for a long time, by my guess," 9 said.

7 smiled. "Great… so. Are you ready for our… private moment, 9?"

"Yes, I am," 9 said with more confidence than he felt.

7 pinned him against the wall with one hand. "That is excellent," she whispered.

And she kissed him as she never had before, the knowledge that nobody and nothing knew where they were or what they were doing spurring them on to as much passion as a stitchpunk was capable of.

He vigorously rubbed her head and back, and she jumped right off her feet, wrapping her legs around his waist.

It took a long time for them to tire, a long time before they even had to draw breath.

When they did, 9's knees just buckled and they collapsed onto the dirt floor of their new hideout.

"7," 9 said. "You're magnificent… I love you. I wish there was a more real way that you and I could…"

She touched his mouth. "9, I have all that I need in _you_," she said. "I love you so very much. You have made all these years of my lonely existence completely worthwhile."

They pressed their foreheads together gently.

"What do you suppose that is?" 7 said.

She was pointing inside the burrow.

"Just the other end of this cave, I guess," 9 said, shrugging.

"No," 7 insisted. "_Look_. Look how far it goes."

They stood up and walked down the tunnel.

"What sort of animal would dig this deep?" 9 wondered.

"None that I've ever heard of," 7 said. "But we haven't heard of very much."

"Isn't that the truth," 9 muttered.

"Wait, the ending is up ahead," 7 said. "Is that it? Or… oh, my…"

At their feet was a colossal drop. It was perfectly circular… and it was the only way to continue down the tunnel.

"Maybe we should retreat," 9 said.

"Come on, 9. I thought you loved to adventure."

"When there's a reason to adventure," 9 said. "What's the reasoning here? Why should we have to continue?"

"9, we decided to make this oasis our home," 7 said. "This tunnel is directly beneath it. We need to know what we're living on top of."

"Right," said 9. "Well, how do we get down?"

7 lowered the visor of her bird-skull helmet, then pulled a coin out of her pack. She placed it atop the flat edge of her spearhead, and extended it as far as she could go, to the center of the deep hole. She flipped her spear over, and waited for the sound of the coin dropping.

"Not too far," 7 said. "Maybe about the height of two humans."

9 gaped. "7, that's an enormous distance! We can't jump that far."

"Sure we can," 7 said. "Just bend your knees when we hit the ground."

"We can't even _see_ the ground," 9 said.

"Oh, come on! You're the one with the light-staff."

"Um… I didn't bring my staff," 9 said.

"You didn't?" 7 said.

9 shuffled his feet. He had to admit that it seemed a bit silly to be standing there with 7, she all decked out in her scavenged armor and weapons and he looking exactly as he had the moment he was born.

"Here," 9 said. He unzipped himself. "We can use the Talisman to light our way."

The device began humming, its green light filling the tunnel.

"You can't fight with the Talisman," 7 said, unimpressed. "You should _never_ remove your weapon from your side, 9. You never know when you need to fight."

"That… that just sounds like a very pessimistic and paranoid way of thinking."

"No, 9, it's a realistic way of thinking," 7 said. "Now let's jump."

"I _really_ don't think I can jump that fa—"

7 picked up 9 with one hand and jumped down the hole with him. She landed perfectly on her feet, then set 9 down right next to her.

"And how do we get back up?" 9 demanded.

"Grappling hook," 7 said. "I've got you covered, 9."

9 shined the Talisman down the long tunnel. "Well, we've gone this far," he said. "Let's see what's this way."

"One second," 7 said. She stood in front of him. "Kiss me for luck," she said playfully.

He did so, softly and tenderly. Then, reconsidering, he gave her a prolonged, passionate kiss.

"Good thinking," 7 said.

They walked down the tunnel. It was large enough for a single human to walk in, which made it painfully expansive to the tiny dolls.

"Something is different here," 9 said. "The burrow that we first ended was dug naturally, but this seems too perfect… like it's been worked."

"Artificial tunnels, not natural caverns," 7 agreed. "So, we're not looking at a _what_ built this, but a _who_."

"Man or machine," 9 muttered. "We should go back right now. Bring all the others with us."

"I think you're right," 7 said.

"I think our group should _never_ split up," 9 said.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

A few minutes later, 7 and 9 emerged from their hole to find 8 on the riverbank, surrounded by his many caught fish.

"Hey, 8," 9 said quickly. "What… what are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Me and 5 was fishing," he said.

"Where's 5?"

"In the big fish," 8 said simply, indicating a sleek fish, longer than he was tall, that was gasping on the shore.

"That _is_ a big fish," 9 said. "How did you catch it?"

"It's hard," 8 said. "Gotta use bait, and pull hard…"

"Wait, wait," 7 said. "It _swallowed_ 5? Why haven't you cut him out?"

"Teachin' him a lesson," 8 said simply.

7 rolled her eyes and used her spear to slit the creature's belly. She reached into its stomach and pulled out the very indignant 5.

"We need to get everybody together," 9 said. "We found a… strange place."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

In less than an hour, the entire clan was rappelling down the circular drop. They walked down the hall, using every light source they had. The Talisman, the light-staff, a candle. They were led by the twins' blinking eyes. But for all that they had, the darkness still seemed too much to get through.

"Here's what I saw," 9 said.

The cave opened to an enormous hollow. The group circled the perimeters of it, seeing many tunnels branching out. The center was occupied by many clothes and blankets formed into a sort of nest.

"It's an encampment," 1 said. "Recently used, _very_ recently."

"Encampment?" 9 repeated. "Of what?"

"Men," 1 said. "Humans."

"So man didn't die out," 2 muttered. "He just went underground."

7 snorted.

"Look at all these burrows," 5 said. "I bet they come up to the top to get their supplies. They need to eat, right?"

"They use the same oasis we just found," 7 concluded.

"Well, we shouldn't trespass any longer," 1 said. "Who wants to help me pack up the balloon?"

"Wait, wait," 9 said. "Why do we need to leave? It's… it's humans."

"And what if it is?" 1 countered.

"Well," 9 stammered. "We fight machines; so do they! They could be our allies at least, maybe even our friends."

1 sighed. "Your naïveté is charming, 9, but I think you're mistaken. Remember the machines we've encountered? Those that spoke? Every one of them was completely positive that _we_ were human… which is what I'd have expected."

"What are you saying?" 9 demanded.

"I know," 7 said. "We're like nothing else that's ever existed. We're completely foreign to _everything_ that exists. So if the only conclusion that a machine can draw about us is that we're human… what do you suppose humans will think of us?"

9 gaped. He had hoped to find humans… but this logic seemed irrefutable. "Maybe we can reason with humans better than with machines," he said hopefully.

1 chuckled. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?" He paused. "Well, we'll be able to test out that theory soon enough."

They all heard the footsteps, the voices, coming from one of the tunnels outside the room.

6 shivered and hid in the shadow of 8. "Back the way we came," he muttered.

A light appeared, in the tunnel directly across from theirs.

6 took off running. "BACK THE WAY WE CAME!" he yelled.

7 stared at the light. "I don't know about the rest of you," she said. "But I'm taking his word for it!"

They ran.


	18. I Bear the Scars

**Chapter 18: I Bear the Scars**

_My name is Anthony Dipree._

_Where to begin? Well, first of all, if you're wondering, being among the only survivors following the great war is not easy. God knows how long we had to stay underground before the air could be breathed again. I don't know how many of us have lived. Enough, I suppose._

_Our party has found an aboveground oasis, and I realized not one minute ago that it was time… time to look ahead to the future. Someone will read this someday, I am sure of it. I have hope, now, that the story of mankind is not over. We've found a slice of life, and perhaps now there's hope for another generation._

_I'm writing this journal because THIS story isn't over: the story of my group. Most of our life still takes place underground, and in both worlds, we are still pursued by—_

"Dipree, what are you doing?"

Anthony turned sheepishly to the group leader, Kyland Williams. "I… I thought I may as well start a journal," he said. "For posterity, you know."

Kyland snorted. "Posterity," he muttered. "We have to focus on survival. We are WARRIORS!" Kyland bellowed that last word, and it echoed across the landscape, a daring challenge to whatever was out there.

"Take it easy, would you?" Anthony said. "We're _not_ warriors. Maybe you are, but I'm a journalist. Therefore, I'm journaling."

Kyland was indeed a warrior. He had been a general in the army that fought back the machines, and he seemed like the obvious choice to lead the ragtag band of survivors.

Anthony was beginning to regret that choice.

"Journal if you must," Kyland said. "But not now. When we're back… home."

"Home?" Anthony repeated. "There's no light at home. I can't write in total darkness. We'd need heated ink or something like that."

"You know, Kyland," a small voice piped up. It was Frederick Loehrie, standing unobtrusively behind Kyland and Anthony. "I… I think Anthony is onto something. We're not warriors. Wyatt is a doctor, Ahmed is an engineer, I'm… well, I'm…"

"We know, Loehrie, you move futons," Kyland retorted. "That's what we all were in the past! Now we must _all_ be warriors, if we want to survive." He hefted his bayonet, with the golden corpse of a winged Buzz impaled on the spike. "There are a finite number of these beasts, I'm sure of it," he said. "We'll defeat them… then the Siblings, the atrocious monsters who dare to call themselves by human names."

"But, Kyland, I—" Frederick began, but he stumbled when Kyland turned a glare on him. He gulped and found the courage to continue. "Kyland, my little girl Kira… I don't want her to have to lose me. The fights carry risk."

Kyland scowled. "Well, aren't you special. We're _all_ fathers, Loehrie. Never forget that we're all of us fathers. Don't think that gives you more rights than the rest of us."

Kyland stomped off. Anthony tapped Frederick on the shoulder apologetically, and they both followed Kyland.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Stephenie hammered out the dents across Van's body, and slowly screwed in all of Lang's controls—transparent, but sturdy and workable. With an electrical jolt from her clawed wings, she brought them both back simultaneously.

Lang got to his feet and looked Stephenie over. "Many thanks, my sister," he said. He felt his own face. "My eye… where did it go? Ah… damn punks… they must have taken it…"

Stephenie cocked her head and blinked. "Punks?"

"Stitchpunks," Van said. "Little teeny-tiny humans made of burlap and soul."

Stephenie stared at Van blankly. "Burlap and soul?" she repeated.

"Yeah, you know, they—"

"I know what you mean," Stephenie cut in. "I've met them…" She rubbed her jaw. "I bear the scars of that encounter. Worthy opponents, it seems."

Lang chuckled. "Worthy opponents bearing souls? No such thing in this world. They may have taken care of us individually…" He let that hang.

"Time for a little family council, I'd say," Stephenie said darkly.

Van slouched uneasily. "Oh, I don't know, Steph, I don't think we're prepared…"

Lang stood on Van's hood and glared at him. "Well, _get_ prepared, brother o' mine. These odd aberrations aren't going to eliminate themselves."

Lang and Stephenie climbed up to Van's roof. The glass man, the Microraptor, and the vehicle sped toward the setting sun.

"Listen, Steph," Lang said quietly. "Alexis and Hollywood don't need to know that you found us dead. Is that all right?"

"I've given that thought," Stephenie agreed. "I'm most certainly not telling them. I don't want to face their temper… even if the focus is _you_. They'll remain in the dark."

"Good," Lang said. "Then their temper goes to the tiny ones and their balloon."

"Facing our eldest brother and sister, the stitchpunks shall know true fear," Stephenie said confidently.


	19. Some

**Chapter 19: Some**

"No!" 7 said firmly. "I am _not_ leaving my oasis! Not for anybody!"

"7—" 9 began.

"No!" 7 snapped again. "This is our home! They're not taking it away from us!" She lowered her visor menacingly. "If we can't coexist with the humans—if _they_ can't coexist with _us_, I should say—then we'll fight them off!"

1 laughed aloud. "You actually think you can defeat man?"

7 glared. "Man was defeated by the machines, am I right? And the machines, then, were destroyed by _us_. Ipso facto, we can take 'man' any day of the week."

"Ipso—?" 8 stammered. "She's thought this out."

"No she hasn't, you bumbling fool," 1 muttered. "The machines didn't beat anyone, and neither did man. They all wiped themselves out. You remember. And what we've defeated? Mere imitations of machines, made of factory scraps."

"Who's 'we'?" 5 interjected. "You've never defeated anything."

2 put a hand on 9's shoulder. "What's on your mind, my dear boy?" he whispered. "This chaos ends when you say it does."

9 looked down at his elder. "Do you really believe that?" 9 said. "That I'll never be questioned, never make errors?"

"I believe that you're trusted and loved," 2 corrected. "And that your decision _will_ end up being the course we take."

9 listened to the others bickering. They were right in front of him, but seemed so distant. He heard them clearly, saw them clearly, but that wasn't all he saw.

"Ahem, everybody!" 9 said. The heated discussions died down, and his fellows all looked up at him hopefully. "I think… I think I know what to do here."

6 nodded knowingly. "You do," he said. "You know what to do."

9 looked at 6, surprised. "Um… all right," 9 said. "Here's—"

Suddenly, a single word echoed across the valley: "WARRIORS!"

Nine heads turned, horrified, in that direction. "What was that?" 5 demanded.

"Humans," 7 said. "Has to be. I'm telling you, we go over there and confront them! If they don't listen to what we have to say, if they attack, we fight back. It's that easy."

5 kept staring in the direction of the yell. "I don't think it _is_ that easy," he admitted.

"Look, the humans have been driven underground, haven't they?" 7 insisted. "They're weak. They can't fight us… and if they can, it doesn't matter. As long as we have the book of spells, death is nothing but a temporary inconvenience." She gestured grandly to the _Annuls of Paracelsus_, propped up against the side of the balloon house.

3 and 4 consulted each other, then looked up at 7 nervously.

"What?" 7 said.

"I don't think it'll work every time, 7," 9 said gently. "I've no doubt, there's a limit to how many times a soul will return to its body before it decides to be free forever."

"Yes, and the resurrection spell takes an entire day of chanting, which the rest of us might not be too eager to perform for you, 7," 1 added wryly.

9 shot a glare at 1, then turned back to 7. "I have a plan. It… just sort of came at me out of nowhere."

"No, it came from somewhere," 6 said quietly.

That simple statement nagged at 9, but he knew he shouldn't pursue it. He knew that if 6 was able to form his visions into words, he wouldn't hesitate to do so.

He understood this even more clearly now, as his plan started boiling in his head… he didn't know how he knew these things, or what they meant. But he could go through with them. All he had to do was explain it to the others…

"A small group of us will go to the humans," 9 said. "I'll go, along with 7…"

"I may keel over in shock," 1 muttered.

7 smirked.

"…and 5," 9 finished. 5 saluted. "I'll explain my plan to you once we get there," 9 finished. "We might be gone for… a matter of days, so bring everything."

5 tapped his shoulder pack. "Never take it off," he said. "I'm ready to go."

"I think I am as well," 7 said. 3 and 4 rushed into her arms, and she held them both tightly.

"And the rest of us?" 1 demanded.

"You know, you really ought to shut up," 2 said. 1 stumbled back, alarmed. 2 turned to 9, and repeated "And the rest of us?", but in a much more polite tone.

"The rest of you guard our home," 9 said, indicating the balloon. "Keep it safe. If things become unsafe while we're gone… you have my permission to leave. If we don't get back, and until we do, 3 and 4 are in charge."

The twins released themselves from 7's embrace, and slowly turned back to the group, grinning broadly.

"Save us," 1 muttered.

9 twirled his light-staff. "Let's go," he said.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

9, 5, and 7 slipped through the cover of the tall grass.

"I hear them," 9 whispered. "Up here… come on, come on…"

They stood on a flat rock that covered the grass, where they could just see over the tops of the waving blades. There they were… three humans. One a heavily-muscled blond, the other two smaller, one pale-skinned and thin-haired, the other very tanned with long hair and a trimmed beard.

"Three men?" 7 wondered. "Where are the women?"

5 crouched back into the cover of the grass. "I guess they leave 'em at their home," he suggested.

7 scoffed disgustedly, then shook her head, preparing herself. "What's your plan, 9?" she said.

"We wait," 9 said. "Right here, out in the open. And we play dead. Don't move, don't breathe, don't blink, unless you're absolutely positive we're in trouble. And I… I think we won't be."

He lay down flat on his back, his eyes wide open, and loosened his grip on his staff before going completely motionless. 5 and 7 exchanged glances, then followed his lead.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Kyland's dark eyes scanned the field. "There's one," he growled. He walked off in pursuit of the rabbit that had caught his eye.

Anthony sighed and shook out his long black hair. "Not fun," he muttered. "Come on, Frederick, Kyland's in hunter mode, we can… sit down for a while, I hope."

Frederick nodded, and the two of them headed for a flat stone that seemed to place a large pit in the grassy surface. Frederick paused and held Anthony back before they sat.

"Look at this," Frederick said with wonder. "Strange little… toys of some kind?"

Anthony squinted at them. Three little rag dolls with big round eyes, each of them only six inches tall.

"Hmm," Anthony said. He picked up one of them—the one with the fewest adornments, carrying only a tiny light-bulb mounted on a stick. "I guess they're toys… weird-looking, aren't they?"

Frederick examined the other two. "They've all taken a bit of a beating, it seems," he said. "Look, this one's missing an eye…"

"And the white one's been re-stitched all over," Anthony added. "Every place there's damage, it's all repaired… must have meant a lot to somebody." He started jiggling the arm of the doll he held. "Well, this is a lucky find," Anthony said.

"Why?" Frederick said.

Anthony grinned. "I bet a few little dolls would mean a lot to Kira."

Frederick seemed taken aback. "Kira? All of them to Kira? But…"

"Fred, you don't have to worry about spoiling her," Anthony said. "A new toy would probably mean the world to your daughter."

"But… what about the other children?" Frederick asked.

"My son will understand… they'll play with them together. It can be their little secret from the other children." Anthony looked around. "And _our_ little secret from Kyland."

"Are you sure?"

"About keeping it a secret? Uh, yeah. Kyland doesn't even let the children see the sun. He'd probably react to salvaged toys as if the children were playing with hunting knives. Hide the toys, Frederick… for your daughter."

Frederick nodded, and examined the dolls further. "They have numbers written on their backs," he muttered. "5… this one's pretty torn, but I think that's a 7… does yours have a number?"

"Yeah, 9," Anthony said. He smiled again. "What if we found the complete set? Now _that_ would up the children's morale. A complete set of dolls… that'd be better than the spoons and pieces of straw they've had all their lives…"

"Yes, it would…" Frederick muttered.

"We'll have to keep an eye out. There have to be at least six others… maybe more!"

Frederick chuckled. "Well, if not, let's settle on the three that we have." He slipped them into his belt pouch just as Kyland returned with his kills.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The pouch was zipped shut. For a second, there was darkness and silence, then they all began shuffling. 9 twisted his staff on.

"Unbelievable," 5 said. "How… how could you possibly have known that would happen?"

"I just did," 9 said. "It came to me, from… well, like 6 said, from somewhere."

"Amazing," 7 muttered. "You must have something special, like he does."

"Well, not quite like him," 5 said thoughtfully. "6 sees things, but I don't think he's ever come up with an actual plan like this…"

7 kissed 9 tenderly. "What next?" she asked.

9 pointed upwards, indicating the man carrying them. "If we had spoken to them, they would have been frightened, and they might have tried to hurt us. When we speak to the child… to Kira… she'll listen. I… I know it for sure."


	20. Share a Secret

**Chapter 20: Share a Secret**

Kyland, Anthony, and Frederick returned home. The stitchpunks in Frederick's belt pouch only risked the occasional glance of the scenery.

It was a long trip, by far exceeding the boundaries of the oasis. 7 shifted uneasily at the thought that the walk might take a day or more. 9 tapped her shoulder comfortingly.

Darkness closed around them suddenly, as the three men were lowered on a nicely concealed platform. All three of them lit torches.

"You two have been awful quiet," Kyland growled softly.

"One of our more tiring hunts," Anthony said smoothly.

The lift stopped at the tunnel floor. The stitchpunks prepared themselves to go limp, getting the feeling that their release was at hand.

Kyland grunted curtly. "Hernandez and Huroda," he said.

"As always, welcome back, fearless leader," said a slow, drawling female voice that sounded distinctly as if it came out of a perpetual smirk.

7 gasped and peeked out the hole in the belt pouch, and was delighted to see an archway guarded by two women. The woman with the smirk was taller and very Latin in appearance, wearing purposely alluring battle armor and proudly wielding a small gun. The other was plainly her opposite. Asian and petite, her armor was too big for her and her gun was held in quivering hands.

Kyland marched past the guards and into the archway without another word. Anthony and Frederick stopped to whisper to the guards.

"Takin' care of our people, Margarita?" he said with a wink.

"The people are just fine," Margarita Hernandez replied, clicking her tongue and shooting Anthony a gun-hand.

"And how are you, Keiko?" Frederick asked gently.

Keiko Huroda shuffled her feet uneasily. "I'm not cut out for this," she muttered. "I'm not a guard. I'm a chef. This is… this isn't what I'm supposed to do…"

"What'd I say about talking like that?" Margarita said. "You're 'supposed' to do whatever you want to. You still want to protect our people?"

"Of course," Keiko whispered.

Margarita nodded firmly. "Very good."

"A woman warrior," 7 said quietly. "Wow…"

"LOEHRIE!" Kyland bellowed from within the camp.

Frederick jumped. "Guess he needs me," he muttered. "Here, take… um… I mean, go to the children."

He handed off the belt pouch to Anthony.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The stitchpunks heard the chatter of voices all around them… apparently, there were at least a few more humans than they'd anticipated. They didn't dare look outside the pouch again. With so many voices, they felt certain that a single movement would get them seen.

Soon, the voices they heard were different… higher… playful… optimistic. They knew that they had been taken to a group of children.

"Ray, Kira," Anthony whispered. "Come here. Kira, your dad and I want to share a secret with the two of you…"

Soon, voices faded away, and the stitchpunks heard only Anthony's footsteps, and two smaller pairs of feet coming up behind him.

"See, when we were out hunting," Anthony began. "We… we found these little dolls."

Anthony lifted the three of them out of the bag, and for the first time in any of their lives they saw children, living children.

Ray Dipree was quite simply a miniature Anthony. Twelve years old, he wore his dark hair down to his shoulders and donned red-rimmed glasses. His skin was tanned and healthy—evidently Anthony's claim that the children never saw the sun was a slight hyperbole.

As for Kira Loehrie… well, it took all of 7's willpower to continue to play the toy—it was all she could do not to gasp. Only ten, Kira had sparkling green eyes, skin as white as paper and long hair nearly as silver. Her eyes brightened considerably at the sight of her new "dolls".

"They're for you, Kira," Anthony said. "And Ray, I just want you to stick with Kira. Play with her, keep an eye on her—help protect our secret."

"Kyland wouldn't want her to have dolls," Ray said, nodding.

"Yes, indeed, I fear that His Most Tyrannical-ness Kyland Williams would, at the very least, if we caught him in a good mood, burn them."

"And if he's in a bad mood, he'll burn _us_," Ray added dryly.

Anthony laughed. "Well, here you go, Kira," he said. "You kids… well, have fun."

Anthony handed the dolls to Kira and began to walk away.

Ray tapped Kira's shoulder. "Who wants to play?" he teased.

Kira laughed and pointed excitedly to herself. She waved to Anthony's back. "Tell my daddy 'thank you'!" she called. 7 allowed herself a sharp intake of breath—Kira's voice was as beautiful as her face and, she suspected, her spirit.

Anthony's pleasant laugh echoed. For the first time, the stitchpunks' attention went to the scenery. Anthony had led the children down a very long tunnel, and now they were in a huge open area. Only a wooden wall, short enough for the children to peek over, separated the small tunnel from the vast cavern. The opposite wall was visible, but the top and bottom were much too far away to be seen through the blackness.

Kira and Ray sat down. "We're gonna have some fun with our new toys," Ray said confidently, as if announcing a new scientific goal.

"Do you think they can stand?" Kira asked.

"Doesn't look like it," Ray said. "Try."

Kira set 9 down on the ground. It was time—9 stood up. 5 and 7 followed his lead, releasing themselves from Kira's grip and sliding to the floor.

Ray gasped. "Am… Kira, am I going crazy? Do you see… this?"

"Of course I do," Kira whispered.

After a short pause, 9 decided to speak. "We… we want to be your friends."

Ray scuttled backwards in fear. "Kira, they… they talk! They're machines… they're like the Siblings!" He stood up and frowned, addressing the stitchpunks. "Your kind killed both of our mothers… lots of people's mothers." He lifted a foot. "I'll crush you!"

"Ray, don't you dare!" Kira shrieked. "Look at them… feel them. Feel them breathe. They're not like the evil ones…"

Ray paused, and finally set his foot gently on the ground. "What… what are they?" he demanded.

"They're our dolls, Ray," Kira said. "That's what they are. They must be magic!"

9 smiled wryly. "Well… partially."

Kira extended a hand, smiling broadly. "I'm Kira, and this is my very, very best friend Ray Dipree! What are your names?"

"Well, I'm… I'm 9," 9 said, placing his palm in the center of hers. "This is 5 and 7."

Kira giggled. "Those aren't very good names."

9 shrugged, smiling again. "Well, they're the only names we have."

Ray leaned in and tentatively felt 5's skin. 5 let him.

"What are you?" Ray breathed.

"We're stitchpunks," 9 said. "Our people… well, we fight the machines, just like you do. But… who are the 'Siblings'?"

"Hollywood, Alexis, Lang, Van, and Stephenie," Ray said bitterly. "People say they're awful machines infused with pieces of pure greed. I've never seen them in person… I only wonder why they have human names, and who gave those names to them."

"We came here looking for… for you," 9 said. "For Kira Loehrie."

Kira beamed.

"We thought that you children would be able to better handle our existence," 5 offered.

"No," 9 said. "We came here specially for Kira… she's special. We want _her_ to know about us. Everyone else is secondary."

5 and 7 regarded 9 with surprise. His own surprise was equal, though—he'd had no knowledge of this goal himself until the moment he said it. Where did the knowledge come from? 6 said that he "saw" things within his head, but 9 didn't feel like that's what was happening at all. For him, it was more as if he simply knew.

"What about me?" Ray demanded.

"Oh, you're… well, there's nothing wrong with you," 9 muttered, not trying to be dismissive, but still trying to sort through his newly obtained knowledge.

"That's real nice," Ray muttered. "How exactly do you fight machines? You're… you're so little."

"You think just because we're little—" 7 began. She couldn't finish—Kira had squealed in surprise at the sound of 7's voice.

"You're a girl!" Kira said gleefully.

7 raised her visor. "Yes," she said. "And so are you, aren't you?" She twirled her spear and hefted her shield.

Kira giggled. "So, you're a girl fighter like Margarita, aren't you?"

"Yeah," 7 said. "Exactly like Margarita! And she's training another to be a fighter like her, isn't she?"

"And you can fight with those little twigs?" Ray challenged.

"Try us," 7 taunted. "We've fought many machines."

Ray and Kira froze suddenly and turned back to the tunnel.

"What are you children doing down here?" a growly voice asked, and someone stepped into their light.

The two young children cowered under the shaggy yellow beard and stern glare of Kyland Williams.

"And what are _these_?" Kyland muttered, his gaze falling directly onto the stitchpunks.


	21. The Very Best

**Okay, there are currently twelve people with a story alert subscription on "Our World". And yet, it's been more than a month since the last time I received a review… que pasa, twelve people? I do need some encouragement…**

**And just FYI, I really like people who review every chapter instead of just the most recent one. If you want me to fall utterly in love with you, that's the way to go.**

**Chapter 21: The Very Best**

7 instictively lowered her visor, and 5 fingered a crossbow missile. They had heard enough from and about Kyland Williams to instantly be prepared for battle.

"What are you supposed to be?" Kyland roared. "A new sort of creature? Step away from my race's children!"

Kyland bore down on them ferociously. 5 took a shot, the needle sticking into Kyland's boot. Kyland dove into a roll, and punched 5 clear in the face, sending him flying back into the wooden barrier.

Kyland barked out a laugh. "How could the Siblings have thought _this_ an efficient design?"

7 hopped to the top of the wall. "I witnessed the war," she said thoughtfully. "Always wondered how I'd face off against the human soldiers."

Kyland pounded his fist on the railing, exactly where 7 had been a second before. She nimbly dodged to a point a mere inch away from Kyland's hand and whipped a cable around his wrist.

The blonde-bearded general angrily lifted his hand, and reached out to strike at 7 with his other hand. She scurried up his arm, and leapt to his face. His swat intercepted her airborne course, and she began to fall. She managed to whip out her spear and dig it into Kyland's abdomen.

He roared in agony and picked 7 up in a clenched fist, holding her up to his eye level. Her arms pinned down to her sides, she shook her head until her helmet tumbled off. She caught it between her feet, then kicked it beak-first into Kyland's eye. It bounced off of his brow, but distracted him long enough for 7 to pry herself loose, her entire body just strong enough to defeat his fingers.

7 produced a long coil of rope, tied it to Kyland's thumb, and swung down to retrieve her spear. For the first time in her life, she saw a bleeding wound… not one of her favorite sights.

She continued to swing, getting her coil twice-wrapped around Kyland's neck, then dropping to the ground. He gagged and spluttered. 5 got to his feet and took another shot, the needle hitting right between two of Kyland's vertebrae, with enough force to dig the missile completely into his flesh—irretrievable without surgery.

5 loaded a third needle almost immediately—and this one went into Kyland's throat.

Kyland bent over the short wooden wall, shoulder-high to the children, quaking in pain. 7 climbed back up his body, and hopped to his shoulder.

"Well, that was… disappointing," she said. "I'm hoping this one wasn't a soldier."

"Foolish machine," Kyland hissed. "I am the greatest soldier… the very best of all humanity."

"Well, I hope that's not true," 7 said simply.

She bounced off the top of his head, and took her place on the ground as Kyland keeled over the edge, screaming hoarsely all the way.

"Well," Ray said casually. "How about that?"

"How about that indeed…" someone said.

The two children and three stitchpunks turned rapidly. Anthony stood there with a gun.

"Dad!" Ray said. "What… what… what did you see here?"

"I saw your new toys beat the crap out of Kyland," Anthony said.

"Ah," Ray said. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

Anthony holstered the gun and gave the stitchpunks two thumbs up. "NICE!" he said.


	22. Blessed

**Chapter 22: Blessed**

Kyland's voice came from the bottom of the pit: "This isn't over, MONSTERS! I'll climb back up this cliff with my TEETH if I have to! And you'll pay, along with the Siblings and any other demons they've cooked up!"

9 peered down into the blackness. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…" he muttered. "Come on, 5, 7, let's get back to the balloon."

"Hold on," Anthony said, raising his hands. "What… what are you?"

9 sighed. "Does it matter?"

"I'd say it does," Anthony said. "Look at you—metal and fabric, not at all unlike the Siblings, and yet you fight and speak with the kind of passion that only comes from human soul. Could it be that the _Annuls of Paracelsus _worked?"

9 perked up at that. "You know the _Annuls_?"

Anthony squinted at them. "How familiar are _you_ with that work?"

"We keep it close to our group, always," 5 said. "We never let go of it, ever since more than half of our people were killed in our battle with the Fabrication Machine… the book was used to bring us back."

Anthony stared. "The… the Fabrication Machine is… it's dead, then?"

"We destroyed it," 9 confirmed. He unzipped himself and unsheathed the Talisman. Anthony's eyes widened in recognition.

"You know a lot of stuff, Dipree," 7 said. "Things that are hidden…"

"Ah, not so hidden," Anthony replied. "I'm a journalist. I wrote most of the stories that the public heard about the Fabrication Machine created by the good doctor—"

"AAAAGGGH!" came a bellow from the bottom of the cliff.

Anthony went quiet. "Well, surprising as it may be, some people will probably hear Kyland and want to help him. Let's go a bit up the tunnels, stitchpunks."

9 looked up in alarm. "You know what we're called? _We_ didn't even know that for a while."

"I read the _Annuls_," Anthony replied. "I knew that stitchpunk was the best way to combat the loss of human life… and that the Scientist could easily figure it out, with his unrivaled intellect and so on. Am I given to understand that none of you have names?"

"Well… 5, 7, and 9," Ray offered.

"Yes, that's a cultural thing for the stitchpunks," Anthony said. "Nameless. The Scientist numbered you, though… well, good, I can only imagine how difficult a society with no names at all would be. Where do you live?"

"We just moved into the oasis," 9 replied. "But now we understand that the territory is taken, and we'll be moving out as soon as we can."

"No, 9!" 7 shrieked.

"Don't you dare leave," Anthony said. "As long as you're left undiscovered by Kyland's lackeys, there's no need to ever leave. And we _need_ allies above the ground… even if they're secret allies."

"Well, either way, we _must_ leave this place," 9 insisted. "We're so far from the oasis, it'll take us far too long to get there over the open plains anyway."

"Very well," Anthony said. "If you insist on taking off, I'll smuggle you out."

"Not necessary," 9 said. "We're small, we're quiet. If we keep to the dark, we'll be able to sneak out ourselves."

"Okay," Anthony said. "But keep in touch, all right?"

"Yeah," Kira said. "I wanna know more about me being important!"

"Yeah, and me being _okay_," Ray added sarcastically.

9 nodded. "We'll see the children again, at least. _That_ is written."

"Written?" 5 repeated.

9 shook his head, trying to clear it. "Ah, I don't know! Things pop into my head that just bear repeating…"

5 tapped 9's shoulder. "Rough day," he said. "Let's go home and get some sleep. And not necessarily in that order… it's a long road."

The three stitchpunks walked past Anthony and began the trek back to the human encampment's main cavern.

7 paused and turned around. "Dipree?" she said.

"Yes?"

"One thing, before we return to our home… I want to meet Margarita Hernandez."

Anthony laughed. "She caught your eye, huh? Hey, been there."

"Margarita's gonna be my new stepmother," Ray said proudly, though with a twinge of resentment.

Anthony bent down and held out a hand for 7. "Here. I'll take you to her. Will you dudes be okay?"

"I guess so," 9 said. "We'll wait for you at the entrance, 7. I love you."

7 smiled. "Me too, 9."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"So… was it true, what Ray said?" 7 asked.

"About Margarita?" Anthony said. "Ah, I don't know. I don't like getting Ray's hopes up, though I guess it's too late for that, and… well, I'm pretty hopeful too!"

"Well, do you love each other?" 7 pestered.

"That's hard to say, if I'm being honest with you, 7. I'm still carrying feelings for my wife, who was slaughtered in the big war. But all things pass. Absolutely all things. So, someday, yes, I think I will love Margarita… the way she deserves, the way she's never gotten before. She's never been married, you see, though she has lost many people she loved. Our relationship began out of the mutual comforting of one another."

"That's sweet," 7 said.

"And you?" Anthony said. "That 9. He's your man?"

7 smiled. "9 is a great man. He's brought me back from a lot of dark places… most but not all of these places were within me. I love 9 deeply."

Anthony thought about that. "Probably more depth than any human could achieve," he said.

"How so?"

"Stitchpunks don't mate, am I right?" Anthony asked. 7 winced. "Without those urges, that's gotta mean love has time to blossom."

"Not at all," 7 said. "We keep the urges… they just… they're just left… unsatisfied, maybe? I don't want to talk about this."

"Understandable. Well, maybe you could talk to a woman," Anthony said. "The Scientist was a man, so you must be the only female in your stitchpunk clan, right?"

"Yes, that's correct," 7 said. "Are… are you suggesting…?"

"I'm suggesting girl talk," Anthony said, shrugging. "Maybe you can talk to Margarita."

"Maybe some other time," 7 murmured. "Right now, I just want to meet her and go home."

"Well, we're at her camp," Anthony said. "Stay hidden until we're alone with her. HEY, KEIKO! Where's Margarita?"

The young Japanese woman was over a woodstove, clearly more her element than guarding the entrance. "Her tent," she said. "She's alone. Just remember, there's no sound barrier in that tent."

Anthony laughed. "Cute, Keiko."

Anthony slipped under a tent flap. Margarita greeted him with a hug and a kiss.

"Hey, Antnee," she said, her special pet name for him. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"I had something to show you," Anthony said, presenting 7. "Something important."

Margarita seemed impressed. "Where'd you get the sock monkey?" she asked.

"No sock monkey… a new ally we found in the oasis. She wanted to meet you before returning there."

Margarita gasped as 7 stood up and blinked.

"Such craftsmanship," she breathed. "And such human… human-ness…"

7 knelt down, her spear on the surface of Anthony's open hand. "It's an honor to meet you, Miss Hernandez. I am a stitchpunk… and I'm called 7."

"Whoa, hey, you… well, why would you want to meet _me_? There are hundreds of people in this camp. So many just like me, and… and you can call me Margarita, dude."

7 nodded as she stood. "Well… thank you. And I wanted to meet you because I saw that you're a powerful woman and a powerful warrior, just as I am."

"Well, hey, I'm flattered… 7, did you say your name was? Let me hold you…"

7 stepped from Anthony's hand to Margarita's. "Nice gear," Margarita said. "What did you do, just put together some plastic and metal and dead bird?"

"That's pretty much it," 7 said. "I've been a scavenger… not blessed with that _fantastic_ military armor like you… I mean, wow…"

"And you're a warrior?" Margarita said.

"The Fabrication Machine lies dead because of her clan," Anthony said solemnly.

"No way," Margarita said. "The thing that leads to the wipeout of humanity, and it was beaten by this sock monkey?"

"Not by me, personally," 7 said. "And I'm a stitchpunk."

"'Stitchpunk'? Come on, you have to admit that's not a whole lot better than 'sock monkey'. But if the Fabrication Machine is dead, why are there still machines?"

"I think we've always known why," Anthony said. "The BRAIN that became the Fabrication Machine was the catalyst, but the Siblings are very separate from that world of technology now. They've branched off."

"I've faced the Siblings," 7 said.

"Oh, and she whipped Kyland in single combat," Anthony said. "I saw it."

Margarita's eyes popped out. "Wait, Kyland knows about her?"

"But he doesn't know that anyone else knows," Anthony said hastily. "…And he doesn't know that 7's people are good guys. Oh, and he's at the bottom of the Abyss with no immediate means of getting back up."

"Kick-ass," Margarita said. "Tell you what, 7, if you're going back to the oasis, you should take this." She handed 7 a small black box. "It's a scanner. You have batteries where you live?"

"Lots," 7 said. "Our group includes a few tinkerers, they wouldn't dare go anywhere without some batteries."

"Well, good. Keep this thing charged, and you'll be able to listen in on _all_ communication between this human population. And if there's ever an emergency, then you can press this button, and contact my people too… and we'll answer you, and I for one will help you as best I can."

7 held it in both hands. "Thank you, Margarita," she said. "I'll always listen for you." She hopped to the ground. "But it's time for me to get home." She slipped out of the tent.


	23. Whatever You Do

**Chapter 23: Whatever You Do**

1 sculpted a path through the tall grass in the oasis. Deep in his heart, he had no faith that the place could be any kind of permanent home, but going through the motions made the others comfortable. He uprooted stalks of grass with his tiny spade, hoping to create clear paths from place to place, from river to tree to burrow…

He leapt back with a "wah!" as 3 and 4 dropped in front of him, hefting a large snake between themselves.

"Oh, very mature," he muttered.

3 and 4 laughed, silently but animatedly, and released the snake.

"You're out of your minds," 1 said. "That thing could be dangerous… look at it move! It moves like the Seamstress."

The twins flashed an image straight into 1's brain: an image of the creature, subtitled: "SNAKE: an elongated, carnivorous reptile lacking external ears, eyelids, and legs."

1 blinked the image away. "That means nothing to me." He began to stalk back to the balloon basket, ready to plop down into his hammock.

2 was at his lab table, sloshing some wet soil around in a thimble. "No interest in learning, brother?"

"Not in the slightest."

2 waited for 1 to clarify; he didn't.

"More's the pity," 2 said solemnly. "The twins are writing a bestiary, you know."

"Good for them," 1 said.

"Much of the knowledge of the magnificent animals in our world has been forgotten."

"Well, la-di-dah."

2 blinked, a motion that caused his loosened eye to slide forward again. "You're a bitter, bitter man, 1," he said, setting it back into place.

"I should be. You shot me."

"Oh, that again?"

"You did!" 1 turned to 8, who was just lumbering in with a collection of shells. "8, you were there. Didn't you see him shoot me?"

8 shrugged.

"I hate that guy," 1 hissed.

"You got my ball?" 8 rumbled.

"Yes," 2 said. He tossed a small white ball to 8, who fumbled, but managed to keep it from hitting the ground. "Just remember, whatever you do, don't drop it."

"Do not taunt Happy Fun Ball," 6 whispered, quite suddenly looming over 1. 1 jumped back in alarm for the second time that evening, tumbling out of his hammock.

"6, catch!" 8 bellowed.

6 caught it neatly, then tossed it back to 8.

"Can't you play _outside_?" 1 demanded. "For heaven's sake… and why on Earth can't you drop it?"

8 tossed it to 1. It landed at his feet and exploded, leaving a hole in the floor of their home and covering 1 in ash and smoke.

"Uh… that's why," 8 said. "2, we need another one."

2 immediately presented an identical ball.

3 and 4 scurried over the lip of the basket, closely followed by 9, 7, and 5.

"Oh, good, you're home," 1 said.

"What happened to you?" 9 demanded, surveying the crispy oldster.

"Chaos, that's what happened. Which is what happens, I suppose, when these children are left in charge. They're all children! And 2…"

"Oh, let it go," 8 said.

"No, no, I want to talk about the fact that 2 shot me in the foot with a toothpick."

9 looked curiously at 2, who rolled his shoulder and tapped a crossbow. "I was cleaning it, and I dropped it."

"That's what you say when a _gun_ goes off!" 1 exclaimed. "You don't even care enough to lie convincingly…"

"Fine, fine, _mea culpa_," 2 said. "I thought that 1 could stand to be taken down a peg."

"Down a peg? I was completely outvoted! I have no further down to go! I have no peg! 9, I demand a suspension of 2's privileges."

9 raised an eyebrow. "I don't _do_ that, 1. No clan member of mine needs to be treated like a child. Except the huge one. Now, is anybody interested in hearing how human relations are going, or are you just going to complain about each other?"

1 relaxed his posture, then leaned forward interestedly. "Do continue," he said.

"We've gained friends," 7 said. "But we'll have to think of them as… as spies among the enemy. Their leader wants us dead." She set down the communicator that Margarita had given her.

"Well, that's a buzz-kill," 2 said. "But these friends?"

"Amazing people," 7 said. "Such kindred spirits with us. There's this great soldier who was so, so nice to me—she wants me to talk to her—and she's a woman! I always hoped I'd meet… and… and these beautiful, beautiful children who… oh, I hope all of us can go to them. Someday, you know?"

9 caressed 7's face. "You're at your most amazing when you're excited," he said. "Good things are happening to us."

8 laughed suddenly. "I just got that 'huge one' thing," he said. "But… wait…" He crinkled his brow for a moment.

"Wanna get a room?" 9 said casually.

"Yeah," 7 said. They departed rapidly.

"HEY!" 8 roared. He hefted his wrench and stalked out of the basket.

2 scratched his chin. "Human allies," he said. "I never thought… I mean, I always _hoped_, but I just thought it was impossible. This is quite uplifting, wouldn't you say, 1?"

1 tightened his purple cape around himself. "Maybe so," 1 said.

"We're on the right track, the track of what you and I used to discuss as young creations," 2 added. "Life, as it were, as opposed to mere survival."

1 turned on the communicator. "Well, let's hear what our fellow scavengers have to say to one another…"


	24. Monster

**Chapter 24: Monster**

Life for the stitchpunk clan fell into a formula. Sleep all night, and during the day, explore, frolic… learn. Indeed, 3 and 4 were so excited about that final item that they slept only rarely—particularly upon the realization that some of the life in the oasis was far more exciting at night.

One night they climbed a tree, searching for a large leopard who only occasionally showed his face at the oasis. Their research had indicated that leopards were not found in this part of the world… had it been captive? Had it been driven out of its native home by the machines? And it definitely didn't live here, or they would have noticed it, so where did it go during the day? Was there another place that could support life? And the leopard never hunted when they saw it—did it find its food back at its home?

The twins prided themselves with never running out of questions.

They scouted the place, each of them scanning separate parts of the oasis. Finally, they saw it—coming out of one of the caves at the top of the hill.

That explained a lot, and the twins turned away from their subject to swap their rapid-fire theories.

_Cave, only entrance._

_Land outside the oasis only traversible to human._

_Cave lead to other safe place._

_Why come here, then?_

They watched the specimen intently. It took a brief sip from the river before scanning the horizon methodically. The light from 9's light-staff glinted off its eyes, showing them as startlingly green.

The twins chittered excitedly. Here was a truly majestic piece of life, life that was still going on.

The leopard growled as something passed just over its head. It crouched down in a defensive posture, and pivoted slowly on its paws.

The twins' eyes blinked. _Female_, they both noted, seeing it from the rear. What was it stalking, though? Surely there was nothing in the oasis large enough to merit its attention?

It passed just over 3 and 4 then, and they tried to catch a glimpse, but it was too fast, even for them. They heard a soft impact, and wouldn't have thought much of it if not for the mechanical whirring that followed. Now _that_ was incongruous.

Mutually, the twins decided to momentarily drop the leopard research to investigate whatever this might have been. They shimmied down the tree and found the source of the impact, in a soft patch of dirt between the roots.

It was a golden sphere, no wider than their heads. They examined it and blinked at, cataloguing.

They skittered back in alarm when the sphere sprouted a pair of leathery wings and lifted off, shining a light in their faces before taking off. They couldn't trace its path… no telling at all where it had gone.

3 and 4 turned and found themselves dropping to the ground yet again when they realized that the leopard was standing over them.

4 started to back away, but 3 held him in place, carefully holding the gaze of the great big cat. He blinked into the creatures eyes, sending it a clear message: _Greetings, queen of the oasis._

The leopard liked that. She growled gently and licked her lips, leaning down in a submissive position.

3 smiled and stroked her muzzle, turning to his brother. 4 curiously sent 3 an image of the flying golden sphere.

_Was nothing we know,_ 4 chittered.

_No,_ 3 agreed. _But leopard know._

4 grinned. _I speak to her?_

3 gestured grandly to the animal, still bowing down to them. 4 gently stroked the leopard's nose, and flashed a message, an image of the flying sphere.

The leopard growled. She was not pleased by that image.

_Animal?_ 4 asked.

The leopard growled again, a plainly negative response.

_What?_ 4 wondered.

She stood up tall, and through some unknown force of nature, imparted its answer directly into the twins' consciousnesses.

_Monster._

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The golden sphere went back into the leopard's cave, following, as the leopard did every morning, the path upriver. But far down the path, it took a slight detour, to a great stone castle overlooking the ocean. It settled itself into the hook at the end of a large metal creature's arm.

"Our latest Buzz has returned," Alexis said. She transferred its photos onto the wall. "Mm-hmm," she muttered. "Leopard… fish… aha, what are these?"

Stephenie took a perch on her much larger sister's head, looking at the photo of the stunned faces of 3 and 4. "That's them," she said. "Those are the punks."

"Are they really?" Alexis asked.

Lang rubbed his wrists. "Oh, I'm telling you, Lex, they gave us a beating. Of the kind I don't intend to ever face again."

Alexis tapped the Buzz, searching its databases. "The oasis," she said. "Hahaha, they all think clean equals safe, don't they?"

"That's way outside our territory, though," Stephenie said. "Can we risk crossing our borders?"

Alexis laughed. "Oh, we've got no need to fear. There's no risk at all. This whole _world_ can be our territory."

"Oh," Lang said. "Well, that'd be nice, wouldn't it? Hehehehe…"

"Now then," Alexis said. "Charles, suit me up."

Charles was the automated mechanism behind the entire building. He didn't speak, but he could carry out any order at all from within the castle. And at that moment, magnetic forces began working around the castle to equip Alexis with her finest, impenetrable armor. On her wrists went cartridges of venom that could be shot out with a single pump of her shoulder.

"Venom won't work on these guys," Lang said. "They're human, but they're not… I don't know, _so_ human as to… the venom won't work, you can trust me on that. Their humanity is essentially just their souls."

"Not a problem with that," Alexis said. She tapped her hooks together. "One touch from my hooks is all I need to suck their souls right out of that fabric."

Alexis opened the double door that led out of the castle's main hall. At the end of the corridor was a window. Alexis was large, nine feet tall and more than twice as long from nose to tail, but rising in the window was the bronze head of the eldest brother, a snakelike head even larger than Alexis's entire body.

"What do you think?" Alexis asked, spreading her arms to reveal her entire stitchpunk-hunting getup.

"Marvelous," Hollywood said.

"Too much?" Alexis said, almost pouting.

"Not at all. These new little things are a danger to our way of life." Hollywood lifted his head and pointed to a blue-black stone set in his throat. "They're precisely what we've been fearing. Human, but competent. And they may come after _this_."

"It'll be their funeral," Alexis growled.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The instant the sun peeked over the rim of the horizon, 9's eyes popped open. He stretched and stood up. 7 was no longer wrapped around him… not surprising. Her free spirit did not allow for much sleep.

7 was only a few feet away, sitting on a rock, sharpening the head of her spear.

"Morning, 9," she said, not even turning.

"Hey," 9 replied, sitting down. "What's on your mind?"

She paused. "How… how did you know I was…?"

"Laboring? Tense? I can just figure that out about you, 7. Just you, though… probably not anybody else."

"Well, you're right," 7 said. "I've been thinking."

"You can tell me anything."

7 nodded and stared at him. "There's an interesting concept I've heard of," she said. "And I think that you and I should date."


	25. Take His Breath Away

**Chapter 25: Take His Breath Away**

"…Date?" 9 repeated uneasily. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong," 7 said. "I have no doubt that I know you straight to your core, and I'm sure we're as in love as any two souls could possibly be."

"Wow," 9 commented.

"Thanks," 7 said, chuckling. "But, um… it's just something I'd like to explore, my soul, my psyche… do you understand what I mean?"

"I… I'm not sure."

"I'm just trying to understand our basic humanity," 7 said. "If there are humans, if there are patches of life, what… what does the world need _us_ for? Maybe _we_ can just live for a while. For no one else, not even the clan. Just us, for a night."

"I like that, 7," 9 said. "I'll be waiting for you."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

6 was doodling absently at his easel at the roots of a tree, when 7 snapped her fingers in his face.

"Hi, 6," she said. "I'd like you to design something for me." She indicated the big pile of fabric she'd taken from the junkyard. "I want to ornament myself," she said. "And I'd like you to help me decide what I'll make."

6 stared blankly, then looked around.

"I'm talking to _you_, 6," 7 said. "I want your help in my relationship with 9… that doesn't bother you, does it?"

"No, no," 6 said. "I love 7 and 9…"

"So, you'll help me?" she said. "I want to look my best for 9."

6 looked her over, clicking his hands together. "Well, you look lovely right now," he said. "Your fresh clean fabric… and voice and laugh and smile…"

7 ran her fingers through 6's tufts. "You're sweet," she said. "But I want to look truly extraordinary… you know, for my guy."

6 nodded. He didn't speak, but he removed 7's helmet and all of her weapons, settling them down gently on a rock. He looked 7 up and down, which oddly didn't make her uncomfortable. She knew he was with her every step, and it was all done for her and 9.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

9 propped up his staff against the wall, along with the Talisman and all the other personal effects he kept locked up in his zipper. That would be the best way; no matter what 7 said, he was perfectly willing to remove his weapon from his side, and on a date, it seemed the only option.

9 examined himself in the mirrored glass of the Scientist's box, with the engraving of "hope". Reflected behind his back, he saw 2 sewing together a cloak of black velvet.

"A date is a very special setting," 9 explained. "The entire length of time has to be perfect, and the two people need to put their very best foot forward."

2 draped the cloak over 9's shoulders and buttoned it over his chest. "Well, this will certainly aid that process," he said.

9 turned to 5. "How do I look?" he said.

"Well, your fly is still open," 5 offered.

"Oh, shut up." 9 tugged his zipper back up.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"3 and 4?" 6 called. "3 and 4? 3 and 4?"

The twins popped out of a knot in the tree, and dropped to the ground, blinking inquisitively.

6 pulled apart a few blades of grass, and 7 stepped out, wearing a red silk long-sleeved dress that went down to the ground. 6 had designed and threaded it to perfection, every miniscule frill and flourish handled with the kind of focus that only the pinstriped artist could master in so little time.

"What do you think?" 7 asked.

3 and 4 hid behind a rock, terrified.

"Oh, stop it," 7 said. "I'm changing my image. This is for my date with 9, and I want to take his breath away."

"You'll succeed," 6 said matter-of-factly.

The twins nodded eagerly. They agreed.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Wow," 9 said. "7, I… I am _very_ glad that I can't blush."

7 laughed aloud. "Where is everybody else?"

"If they value their skin, nowhere to be found," 9 said simply. He kissed her and caressed her face. "You are the most beautiful thing on this Earth," he said.

"And I belong to _you_," 7 replied. "Makes life worth living."

"STITCHPUNKS! HIT THE DIRT!"

The two of them froze as a human did a dive roll over them, tumbling onto her back and barely avoiding crushing them with her feet. The woman barely managed to sit up to aim her gun into the air, firing off a few rounds.

Something exploded directly above their heads.

"Huroda?" 7 said.

"Insanely lucky shot," the woman muttered. She looked down at them, breathing heavily. "Yeah, call me Keiko. Margarita told me all about you guys. She sent me out on a practice patrol. I am _not_ cut out for this soldier work…"

"What did you just hit?" 9 demanded.

"Yeah, she calls 'em practice patrols, but we quite, quite often meet up with _very_ real monsters," Keiko said. She sat up straight and pointed. 7 and 9 scurried up to her shoulders to look.

Five machines were coming at them. They resembled ferocious beetles the size of large trucks, with enormous wheels that tore through the rough landscape outside the borders of the oasis.

"Those are called Rollers," Keiko said. "One of the many troops that the Siblings use."

Keiko fired a few rounds at the one closest to them. After a few bullet holes appeared in its horned face, one of the wheels popped off and it tumbled into a broken heap of scrap.

"Good shooting," 7 said.

"That's what Margarita says," Keiko said. "Apparently, I'm a natural aim, but unfortunately, Rollers are equipped to _deal_ with people who have good aim. It's their armor, damn near impenetrable unless you get them in the optics or the joints in their neck."

"Got it," 7 said. "9, pass me a weapon!"

"I don't have a weapon!" 9 said.

"WHAT?" 7 roared. "What did I tell you? Keep your weapon always at your side!"

"Where's YOUR weapon, then?" 9 demanded.

"I don't have one!" 7 snapped. "You don't bring a weapon on a date!"

"THEN WHAT ARE YOU YELLING AT ME FOR?"

"I LIKE TO THINK THAT YOU LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY!"

"I DON'T THINK WE _NEED_ A WEAPON EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY!"

"SHOWS HOW WRONG YOU CAN BE!"

"Fine," 9 said in a normal tone. He slipped off of Keiko's body and started walking in the direction of the approaching monsters. "I don't _need_ a weapon to deal with these abominations."

Keiko turned uneasily to 7. "What was that about?"

"That was about true love," 7 said dreamily. "Come on, let's go."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

9 ran in great strides toward the Roller at the edge of their formation. Just as he felt the risk of being crushed under a wheel, he jumped onto its saddle-shaped face and stared it in the eye.

The Roller continued to charge forward, thrashing its head wildly in an effort to shake 9 off. 9 jammed a foot into one of its eyes, which shattered with remarkable ease. The Roller skidded, turning rapidly so that its one functional eye was still pointed in the direction it was going. 9 tried yanking on its sharp, front-facing horns and twisted to the side. Just as it entered the grasses of the oasis, it clipped itself on a tree, drawing sparks as its machinery died.

Keiko was in the process of reloading her gun as one of the three remaining tanks barreled into her. She flipped her gun horizontally and held it out like a parry against the Roller's horns.

Just before another of them entered the grass, 7 tossed a stone right into its eye. It backed up and looked around for her. With a mighty screech, 7 leapt into the air and, mid-jump, swung a fist into its eye. The glass casing slipped off, and 7 managed to wrap her fingers around the rim of the socket. That was too good to pass up! 7 hoisted herself straight into the inside of the robot's head.

9 confronted the final machine, the one that had made its way deepest into the sanctuary. He sprinted after it and caught up, creeping along its back as it surged forward, crushing the grass of the oasis.

Keiko had nearly run out of strength. The Roller would nearly have crushed her, but 7 had rigged the other one to ram into its side, impaling its horns within the mechanism. Keiko, her strength returned, gave a mighty shove, and the two Rollers backed away several feet before exploding together, the fireball pluming upwards and just barely frying some of the grass.

7 had made the jump out of the Roller's head and onto Keiko's belt loop, hauling herself up to the young soldier/chef's chest. The sleeve of 7's evening gown was smoldering, but she extinguished it in a fist.

"Where's 9?" 7 asked.

9 was at the back of the Roller's neck, stomping on the bit that was vulnerable every time the Roller lowered its head for a strike. Unable to anticipate the moment properly, 9's foot was within the neck joint just as the beast snapped its head upwards, getting stuck there.

9 tumbled down its face and onto a horn. The Roller was waiting for that, and jammed that horn into a tree. 9's chest was pinned between the very tip of the horn and the tree trunk. He tried clubbing at the horn with his hands, but the copper and wood was no match for the shiny black material of the horn.

The Roller started gunning its engine. 9's velvet cloak tore, and he felt the horn puncture his chest.

Quite suddenly, the Roller's head tumbled off, and 9 dropped to the ground, facing his beautiful woman. With the car-sized. machine's head pointed upwards, 7 had ripped out its vulnerable throat with her bare hands.

"Well…" 7 said. "This didn't go the way we planned."

"Not much does," 9 replied. "Maybe… maybe we should see that it doesn't happen again."

"What do you mean?"

"Just this: if anything happens to me…"

"No!" 7 said. "Don't even _think_ about that. You're going to be our leader for a long time."

"Well, just in case…"

"No."

"If I'm ever unable to lead…"

"No."

"I want…"

"NO!" 7 snapped. "If you make out a will, you'll jinx us all!"

"You're wrong, 7," 9 said. "The true jinx will be the arguments that will go on among the clan if they don't have a backup plan for my absence."

7 crossed her arms. "I don't want to _hear_ about it."

"I want 5 to lead if I can't," 9 said as quickly as he could.

"Fine, whatever, just—"

A long mechanical tendril burst out of the ground beneath 9's feet. It rose ten feet in the air, and pushed 9 up along with it. The tendril wrapped around 9 in mid-air before dropping rapidly back into the earth.

"9!" 7 shrieked. "No!" She ran to where the tendril had disappeared, leaving behind only a shifted patch of dirt.

"This isn't happening," 7 muttered. She started moving the dirt with her hands.

Keiko leaned in behind her. "That's not going to work," she said apologetically. "Those things don't leave tunnels behind. Any dirt they displace just drops back in while they're retreating."

7 dropped to her knees. "Where… where did it take him?"

"Nobody's figured that out," Keiko muttered.

"No…" 7 sobbed. "Not my 9, not now… DAMN YOU!"

Keiko flinched away from the tiny woman's outburst. "Sorry," she said. "I guess I kind of ruined your date."


	26. Homunculi

**Chapter 26: Homunculi**

7 swung from a branch and directly into the balloon basket.

"Over already?" 5 said. His smile quickly faded at 7's deep stare in his direction… and the fact that she was alone.

"No," 5 said. "No, that can't be… they didn't take 9… no one could have taken 9."

"From right next to me," 7 replied, choked up. "It's like not even the ground we walk upon is safe…"

She had been absently scratching at her dress while speaking. At the last minute, she gripped it tightly and ripped it off one-handed. "Can't fight in this thing," she mumbled. "Keiko, fill them in."

Keiko stepped up nervously, then knelt down to the edge of the basket, looking down at them all. "Um… hello, everyone."

1 cowered beneath the human woman's shadow. "Sweet hope," he breathed.

Keiko took a deep breath before beginning. "9 was taken by… by… oh, God, I wish I even _knew_. I can only assume that the Siblings wanted a really, really good look at him."

"What'll they do to him?" 7 asked, almost mechanically.

"I truly don't know anything," Keiko said. "Those tendrils take a lot of people, and… well, we never see them again."

"So, we'll… we'll…" 5 stammered.

Keiko shrugged. "Hey," she said. "You tiny guys do a lot of stuff that my people couldn't even touch."

"What do we do, 7?" 5 said.

7 still seemed to be in shock. "9 said that if anything happened to him, you would lead, 5."

2 put a hand on 5's shoulder. "I think this qualifies," he said.

5 slumped. "I knew this would happen…" he muttered. "I don't know what… what… _what is WRONG with you?_"

2 backed away in surprise as 5 stomped over to the photo of the Scientist and ripped it off the wall.

"You have a lot to answer for, guy," 5 snarled. "What did you think you were doing? Trying to save the world? Well, I've got sour news for you, professor: the world is everywhere, and your adorable little homunculi can't last a minute in it!"

"5, what on earth—"

"Listen!" 5 wailed. "Listen! What are we, hope? We're hope, is that it? We haven't got a hope! Humans think we're machine, machines think we're human—because we're nothing! Nothing! Why would you create such nothingness?"

The ordinarily tame stitchpunk slammed the photo to the ground and smoothed it out, seething as he stared down at the peaceful face.

"You're an evil, evil man," 5 hissed. "I hate you… I want to see you burn…"

5 lit a match. 2 tackled him and wrestled the match away.

"You don't want to do that, 5," 2 muttered.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I do!"

"No," 2 said firmly. He extinguished the match in his hand. "I know you're angry. Trust me, if you had destroyed the only relic of our creator, you would have felt bad about it in the morning."

"Don't tell me what I feel bad about," 5 said slowly.

2 stood on 5's chest, keeping him from standing up. 2 looked out at the group.

"Go," he said. "Everyone out. I'll… I'll be the one to reason with him."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The remaining stitchpunks gathered under a tree as 5 and 2 could be heard struggling.

"So…" 1 began, scanning Keiko from a high vantage point. "A real-live human. How about that?"

Keiko shrugged.

"Japanese?" 1 inquired.

"Yes."

"Not a soldier," he noted.

"Not even a little bit," Keiko said.

"She's a great soldier," 7 said absently. 3 and 4 glanced at her, then exchanged glanced with each other. 7 was there, but not _really_ there.

8 turned uncertainly to 6. "9?" he asked.

"Siblings took him, Siblings took him," 6 replied, clacking his fingers against his eyes. "He's inside."

"Inside what?" 8 said.

"Castle," 6 said.

"Castle?"

"Castle. Five Siblings, forged of greed: Castle."

6 was staring off into the distance. 8 tried to follow his gaze, but saw only the horizon. "Hmph," he muttered.

5 stalked out of the balloon basket and headed straight for the tree. 2 tagged along behind him, looking uncertain. 3 and 4 flashed spotlights onto 5.

"Fine, thanks for asking," 5 said sharply.

1 saluted him. "What now, fearless leader? And I say that in all sincerity."

"We find 9," 5 said. "Simple as that."

7 looked up wearily. "What if we can't?" she said. "What if something gets in our way?"

"Then we kill it," 5 said. "That's _my_ leadership policy. If things are bothering us—we kill them _all_."


	27. What Happens Next

**Hi, this is the author. Well, here I am with my story more extreme than it's ever been. 9 is kidnapped, 7 is heartbroken, and 5 has broken out in fury-induced badassness.**

**So, what happens next? Got me. Anybody have any suggestions? 'Cause I _so_ need some.**


	28. Carved Wood, Molded Copper

**Okay, I'm back! Sorry for the delay. Your suggestions about future events definitely were valid contributions, even if it's been forever. But here we go. This one might be sort of short and sloppy, but I'm just getting back on my feet here, I hope you understand.**

**28. Carved Wood, Molded Copper**

The tendril sucked 9 through a series of tunnels, finally bringing him up limply in the middle of a poorly-lit room.

"Jackpot," a reedy voice said.

"Lang?" 9 said, searching the blackness. "Where are you?"

Lang whipped out a lighter, illuminating himself. "Right here," he said. "Good to have you here."

"But I killed you," 9 said defiantly.

"Oh, and that's a permanent state? What do you think we are, humans?" Lang chuckled. "Boy, have I been looking forward to payback on your cute little clan. Smack!"

Lang backhanded 9 across the face, knocking him out of the grip of the tendril and onto the ground. He then stomped on 9's face and kicked him in the side repeatedly… over and over.

"Lay off, brother," came Stephenie's voice. She crawled into the lit area on her taloned wings. "So, which one is this?"

"9," Lang said. "The leader, if I'm not mistaken."

9 flipped over onto his back, then wished he hadn't as a gigantic, hulking creature stalked into the room. Taller than a human, Alexis's chrome and steel was visibly decaying.

"So, what's the trouble?" Alexis rasped.

"No trouble at all," Lang said, stepping back. "Take him!"

Alexis leaned in, and with her hook-hands, examined 9's arms, tapping his hands gently.

"Carved wood," she whispered. "Molded copper. Fascinating. Humanity-crafted?"

"And humanity-powered," Stephenie said, bobbing her head.

"Well, no longer," Alexis said. She slashed the air in front of 9's prone figure. Though she hadn't touched him, 9 felt a wrenching pain in his insides that passed very slowly. When the pain subsided, 9 heard Stephenie speak.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," Alexis said. "Not a damn thing… I can't sever his soul."

"Well," Lang said, "I keep _telling_ you they're not normal."

"I had that figured for myself, Lang! But a soul is a soul… or should be. We need a comparative… Charles? Bring in the comparative."

Machinery began whirring all around as 9 got to his feet wearily. Alexis noticed him and tapped him with the blunt end of her hook, knocking him down again.

"Charles isn't a Sibling, but his contributions are invaluable," Alexis explained. "It is he who sends out the tendrils… recently we caught a fine slice of _bait_, wouldn't you say?"

Lang and Stephenie chuckled, backing away as a wall opened, revealing a diminutive human figure wrapped in a wild series of coils… a human figure with skin like paper and hair like white gold.

"Kira!" 9 yelled.

Kira's green eyes lifted to behold 9 and the Siblings. "9…" she muttered. "Are you with them?"

"No!" 9 yelled. "They took me, Kira… how did they get you?"

"I don't know," Kira sighed.

"You know each other?" Alexis said. "Contact between the human refugees and the punks? How long has that been going on?"

9 said nothing, and neither did Kira.

"Doesn't matter," Alexis said. "Now then, let me poke around this little girl's soul and see where I can find some likeness."

Alexis stepped up to Kira and swirled her hooks around her body… Kira was never touched, never cut, but she winced in pain a few times. 9 understood now—somehow, Alexis was touching their souls directly, damaging them, searching for weaknesses.

"Well, that can't be right," Alexis said. She took a mighty swing at 9, very nearly touching him, and searing him to his very core. He could do nothing but scream.

"Her soul is exactly the same as his!" Alexis exclaimed.

"What?" Lang demanded. "But she's human!"

Alexis looked Kira over. "Yes, she certainly is. But her soul is not."

Stephenie and Lang closed their eyes, inhaling deeply.

"Damnation, she's right," Stephenie said. "The punk and the kid have _identical_ souls."

"This is huge!" Lang said. "We need to have a counsel about this right now!"

Alexis banged her hooks together and spun around, tugging at both 9's and Kira's souls painfully.

"Things were in our control," she growled. "For a single instant, we _had_ the world, but now… developments. Hate them."

The three Siblings left. The tendrils in the floor held onto 9's feet and hands, then pulled him onto the wall.

"9," Kira said.

"Yeah, Kira?"

"Is… is that why I'm special and important? My soul isn't like others?"

9 didn't know the answer. He gave it anyway.

"Yes," he said. "That's why."


	29. A Soul

**29. A Soul**

"More power," 5 said tersely.

"It's a balloon, 5," 1 pointed out. "Our speed options are limited."

5 only growled. Everything they owned had been re-packed into the balloon basket house, and had lifted up into the cold afternoon's air.

"So," 1 said conversationally. "Where are we going?"

"West."

"West. Ah… the place that the Siblings called _their_ territory is to the west."

"That's correct," 5 said tonelessly.

"But, um… um… I'm a bit lost."

"They sent out their little tendril to _our_ home. We breach _their_ home."

"Ah," 1 said. "A little tit-for-tat. That's… wonderful."

"You're scared," 5 noted.

"Of course I'm fucking scared, what's it to you?"

5 let it go. "Look, I just want to find 9, okay?" he said. "He's the most important thing to us all. I want to find him _quickly_, so I can go back to being the sidekick."

2 touched 5's shoulder. "Oh, son, no one thought you were 9's 'sidekick'."

"Well, _I _thought so," 5 said. "And that's the way I liked it."

2 considered this. "I see you've gotten over that fit of anger from earlier. You're grateful to the man, aren't you?"

5 eyed the portrait of the Scientist uncertainly. "I don't know," he muttered. "I just don't know why we're alive. How did he think our life could be anything but hell? I'd just like to have a few words with that guy, that's all…"

2 nodded. "Well, sadly, he's the only 'guy' we can't talk to."

7, sitting on the edge of a bed with her head in her hands, looked up, alarmed.

"Sorry?" 2 said, noticing her expression.

"2, what do you _mean_ he's the only one?" 7 said quietly.

2 walked up to the spellbook, opening it. "Well, the Scientist didn't die in… in the usual way. His soul no longer exists, because it was placed into us."

"But people who really die," 5 said, "don't _their_ souls vanish too?"

"Souls go… somewhere," 2 explained. "If the body that held them is intact, they can be brought back, and the person resurrected, like you did with those of us who were killed by the Machine. But this is not always possible; bodies can be mangled beyond repair, and sometimes a soul simply doesn't want to return. But a soul can also be _summoned_."

Everyone on board was transfixed now.

"Am I the only one who read the book?" 2 asked, looking around.

3 and 4 blinked him a message.

"Skimmed it. I see. Well, that's how it works. Anyone who has died can be called into existence—unlike a resurrection, this can be _forced_ out of them—and after being summoned, they are required to answer any question posed to them, the answers to which they know. It all depends on the power of the spellcaster, obviously, as sometimes the ghost will simply break the mind and heart of the… the, um…" 2 was painfully aware of everyone focused on him.

"We can't call the Scientist's spirit," he finished. "That's… that's all I was trying to say."

8, taking watch at the front, gasped in surprise and walked back into the basket, babbling incoherently.

"Are you on magnets again?" 1 quipped.

"No," 8 snapped. "Not since… like… I don't know, must have been like yesterday or somethin'. 6, come here…"

He grabbed 6 by the scruff of his neck—6 managed to finish off a drawing before being pulled completely off the balloon basket floor—and lifted him over the rim.

"Is that it?" 8 demanded. "Is that the Siblings' castle?"

1 climbed up to the room and looked. "Oh, you have to ask 6?" 1 said. "That's _clearly_ the Siblings' castle. Ahem… now, if you'll excuse me while I pass out from the sense of imminent doom."


	30. Jar of Light

**30. Jar of Light**

The eight stitchpunks began walking through the huge, empty halls of the Siblings' castle.

"Big halls," 8 commented. He turned to 1. "Are they big? Or are we just really tiny?"

"Oh, we're tiny," 1 muttered. "We're so very, very tiny. Much too tiny to survive…"

"Put a cork in it, 1," 7 retorted. "We've made it this far. It's not like we've ever… um…"

"What, died? Maybe _you_ haven't…"

"Sorry. Forget I said anything."

"Will you all quit bickering?" 5 said. "You'd never have done this to 9." Spotting a door, 5 vaulted up the knob and, bracing his feet against the door, turned it. "Everybody in," 5 said as he swung outward with the door. "We're searching every room and staying together."

5 dropped down to the ground and led the group into a room.

"9, you're here!" 7 called. "And… oh, no, Kira! They got Kira…"

"She's alive," 9 said quickly. "Cut the tendrils…"

7 drew her spear and started hacking at 9's bonds. "8, help Kira!" she called.

8 whipped out his cleaver and set to work.

1 looked around. "This is too easy," he muttered.

"Hush up," 7 retorted, getting 9 free. She looked up to the unconscious Kira. "How did they get her?" she muttered.

"The tendrils go everywhere," 9 said. "Straight into the human encampment. They take people regularly and they never come back."

"Until now," 7 said confidently. "We're getting Kira out of here."

5 looked over Kira's form. "Are you suggesting we carry her?"

"We'll wake her up," 9 assured everyone. "We have to get out of here."

7 stood on Kira's collarbone. "Kira, wake up," she said quietly.

Kira's eyes fluttered, and she smiled. "7," she said.

"Oh, sweetheart," 7 replied. "Come on, Kira, we're getting you home."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It wasn't much later that the entire group was slinking through the castle, Kira trying hard to look small. They realized they were on a balcony that overlooked a very large room. Alexis was there, while the tendrils presented her with two very large human males.

"Wyatt and Ahmed," Kira said quietly. "They're Kyland's guys…" She made a fist. "Getting what's coming to them."

"No one could possibly deserve this," 9 said quietly.

Alexis looked down up at the two men, and quickly slashed at them. Kira and 9 saw the technique that had failed on them being used to the greatest effect on these men. Ensnared on Alexis's hooks were the green lights of their souls, being tugged out of their mouths and eyes.

Alexis pulled the souls out completely and placed them in a large jar, quickly sealing it and shaking it up, until the two dead men's souls were no longer distinct from each other. Alexis then hooked up the jar to a machine that led to two other jars. The green light in the jar was sucked into a pipe, and the two other jars were filled, one with pure blackness, the other white light.

Alexis released the jar of darkness from the machine, and absorbed it into her own beak and eyes. Instantly, her metal was no longer decayed, but perfect and shiny.

"Five Siblings, forged of greed," 9 said. "That's it! 6, this is what you've been talking about."

6 blinked rapidly and nodded.

"Look at that," 9 said. "They feed on the evil part of human souls—man's greed."

1 smirked. "Well, then I'm sure they'll never go hungry, and… we're never going to defeat them. Let's go."

"Look at the other jar," 9 said excitedly. "Their good sides! No human soul can be perfectly evil, anymore than someone can be all good. So every single time they feed, they also end up with a jar of light."

Alexis was carrying the jar of light, and placed it on a platform that dropped it downward out of sight.

"Souls of pure good," 2 said. "Pieces of them, anyway. And they can't destroy them! They must be accumulating."

"That's my thought exactly," 9 said.

2 looked at him. "Do you suppose we could… harness these souls of light?"

1 frowned. "What, use portions of souls? Like how we were made?"

"And we used our souls to utterly destroy the Fabrication Machine," 9 said. "And these…? Oh my goodness, we could wipe the Siblings and their greed off the face of the Earth!"

Down below, Alexis breathed in deeply. "Thank you Charles," she said, and instantly jumped up the balcony.

Kira shrieked and scuttled backward. Instantly, 7's spear, 8's cleaver, and 9's staff were jammed straight into Alexis' head.

Alexis blinked at them and tried to shift her body, before the three weapons took their toll on her and she collapsed, dead.

"Wow," 9 remarked. "That was insanely lucky that we all caught her in the head. Come on, we've got to mangle her beyond repair, or they'll just bring her back."

"Let's blow her up!" 8 said exuberantly.

They began to tear up her body, keeping an eye out for the other Siblings.


	31. Corpse

**31. Corpse**

The troupe searched for an exit. Kira was coughing violently and steadily lagging behind her smaller companions.

"9, we need to get Kira home," 7 said.

"I know, I know," 9 said. "But how?"

3 and 4 blinked at each other, then motioned to a door. Upon exploration, it turned out that the door led to a room far different from the squareness of the rest of the castle—a very natural cavern that seemed to serve as the source of a stream.

9 twisted on his light, looking around. "Fish," he said, looking into the water.

5 gazed into the depths of the cave. "Leopard," he said, trumping 9's statement.

The huge yellow cat walked along the banks of the stream, coming closer without fear. Well, why should a leopard have anything to fear? It looked down at them and nearly purred with pleasure.

To the clan's surprise, the twins ran up to the leopard and stroked it tenderly.

"A friend of yours?" 9 said, grinning. He was scarcely surprised that the quirky twins had made such a discovery.

While 4 started conveying images to the leopard, who watched patiently, 3 ran back to 9 and started flashing at him.

"Um…" 9 muttered. "I'm sorry, 3, I don't really understand your messages."

3 scratched his forehead, then simply created slides to spell out the words.

"Leopard…" 9 read slowly, "take… home. Leopard take Kira home. Really?"

"Um… are you sure?" 7 said. "You sure he didn't say 'leopard eat Kira'?"

3 flashed lights straight at 7, who understood better.

"The leopard wants to help them," 7 explained. "3 and 4, I mean. It trusts them."

"Sure, it trusts them," 5 said. "But is it wise for _them_ to trust a leopard?"

3 flashed a single frame to 5.

"Always," 5 repeated. "But…"

"Animals don't lie," 9 said. "That's kind of the strange thing about having a perfectly-balanced soul."

The leopard, apparently tired of their banter, bounded over to Kira and bowed its head to her.

Kira smiled. "I'm gonna be the first person to ride a leopard."

"Well, nobody was able to just ask before," 9 said, amused.

Kira clutched the leopard's back and it loped into the depths of the cave.

"Goodbye, Kira," 7 said quietly.

"She'll be fine," 9 said, caressing his love. "Now it's just us… let's get home."

2 held up a hand that caught everybody's attention.

"Look up," he said.

The stitchpunks all looked to the ceiling of a cavern, where they saw a massive motherboard, armed with whirring fans and blinking lights everywhere.

"Charles," 2 said coldly. "The mechanism behind the castle, the one that ratted us out to Alexis."

"He sees us right now," 5 said. "Why hasn't he set off an alarm?"

"You can bet your patch and buttons that he _has_," 2 said. "A silent alarm, straight to the Siblings' minds."

"So they know we're here," 9 said.

As if in answer, the lumpy floor of the natural stone cavern rapidly went flat, causing everyone to lose their footing briefly. Briefly, but long enough. All of them on their knees, they felt the stone become loose sand, and they were sinking…

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

9 dropped from the thick sand into a green-lit tunnel. Chattering sounds greeted him on all sides, and he brandished his lightstaff, only slightly fazed to realize that the battery had run out. Whatever was down here, if it had an aversion to light, there wasn't much he could do about it.

Then he heard a match strike, and the green light was defeated by a piercing orange. 5 marched toward him with his torch held aloft.

"Is anything down here?" 5 mouthed to him.

"Anything _could_ be," 9 replied.

They pressed back to back, rotating slowly to prepare for any foe that might emerge.

"Glad you're here, 5," 9 said.

"Well, what kind of sidekick would I be if I wasn't here?" 5 said, smirking.

"Sidekick? Who said you were my sidekick?"

"I did, and I'm hanging onto it," 5 said. "I'm here to back you up, even though it's perfectly fine when I'm _not_."

9 rolled his eyes. "Well, I _am_ glad you're here, anyway."

"9?" came 7's call. 5 turned his matchlight to that direction, and 7 staggered out, carrying 6.

"He's unconscious," 7 said.

"Is anyone else here?" 9 said.

"Just us," 7 replied.

9 coughed as he tried to think about the implications. "Well, at least the others have 8 to guard them until we get back together," he decided. "How are we going to get out of here?"

"Map it out?" 5 offered. "Or, we may not need to. The way out could be right down that way."

5 gestured with his torch, and all three of the conscious stitchpunks jumped in surprise as it lit upon a pale, decaying human face.

"It's… it's a corpse," 5 said shakily.

They all jumped back even farther as the face's nostrils flared, filling the lungs of what had appeared to be tattered remains. A hand brushed the scraggly hair away from the man's face, and the eyes opened, revealing milky white nothingness behind the lids.

"Who's there?" the blind corpse rasped.

None of them answered—this was far beyong their grasp of reality. The pale hands reached out to them, and when the dead body spoke, they saw that all of his teeth were needle-sharp.

"Is someone there?" he reiterated. "Has some poor soul finally come along to appease a tortured ghost?"


	32. Instant Death

**Upon the first appearance of Stephenie, a couple of people asked why the Siblings had, and I quote, "human names". And I thought, "Well, that's a really weird question, but I'll run with it. I could write it in." So I threw in a couple of bits in which the humans are disdainful of the Siblings' names.**

**But, funny thing, that wasn't the end of it. People are "confused" about their names. People want an "explanation". Well, here's my answer on the "human names" issue: What the hell other kinds of names ARE there? What the frick do you WANT me to call them? Befuddling people by giving human names to machines is so NOT what I was going for with these characters. I don't give a damn what their names are, why do you?**

**This genuinely frustrated but entirely premeditated rant is now over. Had this been a real outburst, the two paragraphs above would have been followed by many more insulting your intelligence, lineage, and upbringing.**

**32. Instant Death**

1 struggled and braced himself against a stone, trying to avoid sinking in the sand. "Is anyone here?" he said quietly. "Am I alone again?"

"Again?" came an amused voice, tugging 1 out of the sand and onto the flaky but firm stone. "When have _you_ ever been alone?"

1 straightened his back, facing 4, 3, and 2, actually looking over the heads of the smaller stitchpunks.

"Is it just us?" 1 said. "Damnation, how exactly do we live through this?"

He looked up. They were indoors, but the ground was very natural and there were even some trees around. The room was mostly empty, but 1 had the peculiar sensation of being cornered, surrounded.

He jumped when he heard a mighty roar, as a meat cleaver slashed through the brambles ahead.

"8, thank goodness," 1 said. "I'm glad you're here."

"Uh, really?" 8 said.

"Of course," 1 snapped. "Look at who else is here. 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 equal instant death. You, my good man, are here to protect us."

"That's what I'm here for," 8 said. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," 2 said. "But, look…" 2 pulled out a small black device with a single knob-like feature and dangling wires. "I managed to tweak the walkie," he explained. "I think we can contact some allies." He started turning the dial, and it began buzzing quite clearly.

"Ah, here we go," 2 said. He offered it to 1. "Let's see who's there."

1 took the device. "Um… hello. Human encampment?"

He nearly dropped it when a female voice answered with total clarity. "Yeah? Who's out there?"

"Ah… yes, is this Margarita Hernandez?"

"Yeah, sure is," said the voice suspiciously. "Who's this?"

"Er, 1."

"Yeah? 1 who?"

"Um…"

Margarita laughed. "I'm kidding. What up, sock monkeys?"

"Hernandez," someone bellowed. "Who are you talking to, you foul—?"

"Shut up, Kyland," Margarita replied. "Sounds like the little guys need to talk to us."

"You're in contact with those tiny monsters?" Kyland demanded. "What are you thinking?"

"Don't make me go up there," Margarita said coldly. "So, Number 1, what can I do for you?"

"Well, uh," 1 muttered. "I… who is that fellow on the other end?"

"Kyland? He's the leader. Screw him. What can I help you with?"

"Um," 1 continued to stammer. "I don't know if I want to go against a leader…"

"Oh, give me that," 2 said, taking his device back. "Miss Hernandez, our clan is in dire trouble. We've been taken captive by the AI of the Siblings' castle itself, Charles."

"I see," Margarita said. "Okay, give me the specs for my rescue op, Mr.… you have a number?"

"Yes, 2."

"Okay, Number 2. Unfortunate. But tell me what to do."

"No, not Number 2. I'm just 2."

"Keep telling yourself that. Go on."

"Listen, I don't know exactly where we are. We were detected somewhere in the bowels of the Siblings' castle, and our group has been separated."

"Number 2 was in the bowels—got it."

"Okay, I get the feeling you're not taking me seriously," 2 said irritably.

"No, I've got your back," Margarita said. "I'm dead serious. Trust me, a lot of the people in this damp hole have been planning to storm those Sibs for a very long time, put an end to things."

"Oh, no they haven't," Kyland growled. "We're staying here."

"These people need help!" Margarita said sharply back.

"People?" Kyland roared. "You're mad! You're betraying all of humanity, Hernandez! I'll see you hang for it…"

"Humanity?" 1 said quietly. He took the speaker. "Humanity?" he said furiously. "You damn fool! We ARE humanity! Humanity in its rawest form. I'd like to know how YOU can call yourself human, you devil dictator."

The signal cut out. 1 clenched his fist.

"Very brave words, brother," 2 said, impressed.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Margarita looked over her shoulder. Kyland was there, and had disconnected all of the communication in the entire base.

"What are you doing, Kyland?" she said coldly.

"You have a thing for those chipmunks, do you?"

"They're called stitchpunks," Margarita snapped.

"Whatever. I'll—"

Margarita pulled a gun on Kyland. "I'm getting pretty sick of you," she said. "Those stitchpunks are way more human than you'll ever be. I'm taking an army to bring down those Siblings. Now, are you coming along, or what?" She raised the gun expectantly.

"Um…" Kyland said with mock thoughtfulness. "No, I think that I'm going to go up to the gardens and smoke all of the marijuana we've produced. But it's fine with me if _you_ want to die. Just remind everyone who turns you down that I still care about them."'

"As if," Margarita sneered. "Now, we humans are going to get our world back."


	33. Soul Sucker

**33. Soul Sucker**

9, 7, and 5 backed away nervously, as the being who had identified himself as a "tortured ghost" tried to stand, sniffing at them.

"Who's there?" it whispered harshly. "Aha…"

The stitchpunks hid behind a rock, but the ghost reached out and grabbed 9 around the torso, pinning his arms to his sides. The ghost's hands were see-through, and 7 and 5 could see him trying to wriggle away, unmoving.

"There you are," the ghost growled. It opened its mouth and inhaled deeply, its mouth and both of its eyes glowing green—as did the eyes and mouth of 9.

"No!" 7 screamed. She leapt up and pulled at 9's leg. Surprised, the blind ghost dropped them both.

"7?" 9 said blankly.

"Good call," 5 said, stepping out. "Damnable soul-sucker. That _hurts_."

7 started slashing at the spectre, but her spear blade didn't seem to be meeting any resistance. "I'm hitting nothing but air!" she exclaimed.

5 shot a needle out of his crossbow. It pierced the ghost's forehead, and 5 saw a spray of silvery blood pop out, while the needle hung suspended in the middle of the ghost's transparent head.

"That's a good thing," 5 said darkly. "Hit the air."

7 nodded and stabbed the ghost in the neck. It vanished instantly, but quickly reappeared behind them, its neck bleeding profusely.

"_Nice_," 7 commented.

"Keep it away from 6!" 9 called.

5 charged the ghost, who extended a foot and stomped on him. 5 was visibily shaken, but not too badly hurt, then the ghost gripped 7 and started banging her against the wall. 7 freed her hand and started slicing at the ghost's wrist, eventually managing to sever the hand, which promptly vaporized. 7 braced herself against the ground.

9 scratched his chin. Whatever the "ghost" was, it was unmistakably dangerous, but also seemed unusually fragile. Experimentally, he tossed a stone toward its back. The round stone pierced its back and sank in, remaining suspended in mid-air.

"Perfect," 9 said. He gripped his light-staff and shoved it into the ghost's spine. The ghost screeched in pain, and for good measure 9 turned the light on. To his surprise, the ghost's innards caught fire.

"My God," 9 whispered as the ghost collapsed, falling forward. Its head landed directly in front of a groggy 6, who smashed an inkwell over its head. The ink dripped off of the seeming nothingness of the ghost's body, and with a final rattle, 9 struck it in tjhe back of the head, and its entire body vaporized, blowing away in the wind.

"Well," 5 said. "Wait 'til we tell 1 that we defeated a ghost." He looked around. "Anyone care to explain that? 'Cause I never heard of anything like this."

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

That was 9 and 6, speaking in unison. 9 looked surprised, but 6 didn't seem to even notice.

5 looked between them slowly. "_Never_ do that again," he said. "Please?"

"Sorry," 9 said. "So, which way out?"

"Well, I think our best bet is the more uphill route," 7 suggested.

"But we can't tell from here on the ground," 9 said. "Too bumpy…"

"I've got this," 7 said. She detached two spear blades from her belt, and used the hooks to climb up the wall of the cavern. When she reached the point that was more horizontal than vertical, she slipped off the wall and simply dangled from her two blades, swinging herself along. She then looked back and forth along the tunnel.

"_This_ way," she said. "It goes up and I think I even see a bit of light."

She tugged one blade out of the ceiling, then swung her feet all the way around to grip the blade between them. Tugging hard, the blade was removed from the soft stone entirely, and 7 dropped to the ground.

"Impressive, my love," 9 said.

"Thank you," 7 said tenderly. "Let's get back on our road."


	34. Fight Well

**Okay… the pace for **_**Our World**_** has been slow, and I'll tell you why. In Chapter 24, Hollywood has a blue-black stone set into his throat. It was my intent that this curious gizmo would fuel the remainder of the story, but during one of my sabbaticals—get this—I forgot what the thing is supposed to be! I remembered recently, so we should be getting back on track. Also, I watched **_**9**_** last night, and boy did that get some wheels turning again. It revived my unconscious fic! Going on that concept, I should probably watch **_**Toy Story 3**_**.**

**34. Fight Well**

Margarita led her tattered human army over the crest of a hill. The castle was in a tight little valley bordered on one side by a drop down to the ocean.

Margarita wrapped an arm around Anthony. "Here we are, babe," she said, leaning on him. "What do you think?"

He clutched his simple hunting rifle. "Well, one way or the other, this is the last battle of the war," he said. "All I can hope is that somebody writes down what happens here."

"That'd be swell," Margarita said. "Okay, we're probably not going to get within throwing distance… long-range grenadiers up front. You cool with that, Fred?"

Frederick nodded, stepping forward with his heavy, long gun. "Might I also lead the charge inside?" he asked.

"You wanna find Kira," Margarita said. "I get that."

Something blasted away at the castle, causing the entire group to jump and stare. "What was _that_?" Anthony demanded.

A few more pieces of the castle chipped away with loud _boom_ noises.

"Looks like… they're being besieged from within," Keiko offered.

"Good call," Margarita said.

"Check it out, their own 'bots are going after them," Ray said, pointing.

Indeed, at the foundation of the castle, a number of the beetle-like Rollers could be seen whacking at the brick and stone with their horns.

"Amazing," Anthony whispered. He did a double-take at the person who had just spoken. "Ray! Get off of the front line. You're just a child."

"Hey, I want to find Kira too," Ray protested.

"To the back, kiddo," Margarita insisted. "Now… what do you suppose is attacking the Sibs from the inside?"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

2 tauntingly held a knife above Charles' controls.

"This'll teach you," he muttered, tweaking more buttons with his free hand. "We'll turn the castle on itself, and Charles… is… down." 2 jammed the knife into a small button. The mechanism flared angrily, then the lights above went dark.

3 and 4 flickered at each other eagerly. 1 was staring out the window, and got a glimpse of the human army beginning their tentative assault.

"Ah, there they are," he said. "That one up there must be Margarita, leading the charge. Coming to save our lives… and yet, what have we to offer her?"

"It's basic decency," 2 said. "Sometimes it's hard to tell what's right, but I think in this situation, there's nothing difficult about which path the good tread."

"Those Siblings are _not_ going to like us after this," 1 pondered.

"Oh, they wouldn't have anyway," 2 said. "But look—the machines oppose us, and the humans support us. I'd say we've found our niche, wouldn't you?"

"Hmm… indeed," 1 said. He spoke quietly. "Fight well, Hernandez, and I'll do all in my power to give you what you deserve."

A cold hand grasped the side of 1's head. "Your debts will have to be cancelled, I'm afraid," Lang sneered.

1 instinctively swung his staff around to connect with Lang's face, but the glass man rolled backward. 1 turned on his heel and moved into a ready stance, which Lang mimicked.

"You punks have caused some trouble," Lang said. "Van!"

Van burst into the room, cornering 2, 3, and 4 and menacing them with his bright lights.

8 drew his meat knife, and his eyes darted between Lang and Van.

"I've got this," 1 said. "Protect _them_."

8 nodded and leapt to Van's hood, stabbing him in the windshield. The stitchpunks backed into the corner huddled in a small hole in the wall.

Lang threw his entire body into an attack on 1, who backed away and retaliated with his staff, chipping off a piece of Lang's arm. Lang grabbed 1 by the front of his cape.

"That's my eye you're using as a clip there," Lang said.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" 1 replied. "I think it makes a statement."

Lang punched 1 in the jaw, but 1 head-butted the fist, cracking off one of Lang's fingers and causing him to leap backwards in pain.

"Hmph," 1 said, smirking. "I hope you fired whoever made you out of glass."

"Actually, I killed him," Lang replied.

"I see," 1 said. He gripped his staff and held it up over his head. "You shall murder no more!"

1 charged, and Lang balanced his entire weight on one hand, swinging both legs around to cut 1's feet out from beneath him. 1 landed plat on his back with a loud puff of air.

"Ah-ha-ha," Lang chuckled. "You're old."

"And quite used to it, I assure you," 1 replied, jabbing his staff into Lang's eye.

Lang backed up further, crashing into Van's tire. Van backed up in surprise, scraping against Lang's body, who shrieked in terror. 1 ran to 8, following 2, 3, and 4 to an air vent.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

9, 7, 6, and 5 surfaced, but were immediately jumped by a figure covered in blue feathers.

"Fancy meeting _you_ here," Stephenie said. "You're nothing but trouble. Alexis is missing, Charles' central processor is gone and the castle is turning against us… I've had just about enough of you."

She scooped up one of them in each of her four claws, and took to the air.

"I'll drop you into the ocean, I think," she said. "Nice, slow sort of death for you."

6, held in one of her front claws, smashed an ink bottle on her face. Stephenie shrieked and dropped them, careening to the ground herself.

"No!" she screeched. "Ink all over my feathers—AAAH!"

"You are king of the ink bottle attack," 5 said, pounding his fist against 6's.

9 and 7 got to their feet as well, looking up at the castle as it slowly attempted to destroy itself.

A grate popped off the ground, and the tiny metal claws of 1 lifted him out of the hole. 8 could be heard muttering, "Up ya go," as he lifted the others to the ground.

"Ah, 9," 1 said. "We've all ended up in the same place. How narrative."

9 shielded his eyes from the sunlight as he looked around. "We should leave," he said. "Where's our vessel?"

"The balloon?" 1 said. "Other side of the building, I'm afraid. But we can't leave, not yet. The human encampment are here, they've—"

One spire of the castle exploded in a ball of fire, which slowly began to spread to the rest of the structure.

"Oh, crud," 8 rumbled.


	35. Our Original Plan

**35. Our Original Plan**

Frederick Loehrie and Anthony Dipree rappelled over the castle wall.

"That fire's not gonna last long," Frederick said. "We have to help it along any way we can."

"Yep," Anthony said, fiddling with a device in his ear as they dropped to the ground. "Have you heard this? Kira's safe. Evidently, she rode in on the back of a leopard."

Frederick relaxed noticeably. "Well… I'm glad to hear it. Maybe there's a chance after all, for…"

He paused, looking at the yellowish sky.

"Uh… Fred?" Anthony said, waving a hand in front of his face. "Be that as it may, let's not abandon our original plan."

"Oh, yes, helping the fire along," Frederick said quickly. "It'll keep itself contained, not much structural damage to speak of, the building being stone and all."

He hurled something at a turret, and a fireball blew some chunks off of the structure.

"The fire will do its work on the inside, while we and the Siblings' turncoat 'bots take it from without," Anthony said with a wicked grin.

"Good plan," said a thunderous voice. They swished around, surveyed by a metallic reptilian head larger than the both of them together.

"By all means, take the castle down," Hollywood said with a smirk—if a mechanical dragon could smirk. "It's far too small for the likes of me."

Anthony pointed his gun at Hollywood's snout. "How about you eat me, worm?" he sneered.

"Love to," Hollywood said. His mouth opened, both his upper and lower jaws unhinging.

"Dipree, no!" Frederick cried, pushing Anthony flat. Hollywood's teeth instead pierced deeply into Frederick.

"Oh, God, FRED! NOOO!"

Hollywood worried him like a dog with a bone. "It's time for a new era," he snarled through the bloody mass of Frederick. "Help me launch it, would you?"

"Dipree," Frederick muttered, through lungs filling with blood. "Dipree, tell Kira."

Anthony nodded. "I'll tell Kira," he said.

"No, no… I mean, tell Kira _everything_."

He nodded solemnly. "I got your back, friend."

Small tubes emerged from each of Hollywood's teeth, sucking black dust from each hole in Frederick's body, adding small, barely detectable levels of sheen and toughness to his metal skin. Before the dragon could drop Frederick's corpse, a jet of white light burst from his mouth and eyes, removing all the effects the darkness had done, even perhaps leaving him more weathered than before.

Hollywood looked around for the remaining man, but Anthony Dipree had fled, to fulfill his promises, weakening the structure, and rehearsing exactly how he would relate to Kira the things she needed to know.


	36. Robots

**36. Robots**

"They've gone completely berserk!" Keiko gaped.

The Siblings' machine slaves were, indeed, quite beyond control. Their many varieties—the wheeled and horned Rollers, the fluttering golden Buzzes, the ever-stretching tendrils, and innumerable others—were working on the castle walls, but some had also begun shifting their attention to any moving target, be it a human, another robot, or simply rolling debris… the contraptions that had tormented the human encampment for years on the leash of the true threat would never be salvaged.

"I'm calling a retreat," Margarita said. "Those robots aren't about to start negotiating with us." She held up a gun, shooting down any machine that continued to pursue her fleeing troops—including her love, Anthony—back to higher ground.

Margarita did a head count. "Okay… is anybody missing?"

"Where's my dad?" Kira said quietly.

Anthony inhaled. "Kira, I—"

"HEY DOWN THERE!"

Kyland stepped out from behind an outcropping of rock, his eyes glassy and a cylindrical device clutched in one fist.

"Oh, damn," Margarita said, lifting her gun again. "You gonna make me waste valuable bullets on another human, Kyland?"

"I doubt you'll be wanting that," Kyland said. "I've re-rigged all our atomic weapons back at the base, see?"

"Atomic weapons?" Anthony cried. "There were no—"

Kyland waved a hand. "Eh, I kept 'em secret for when we needed them."

Anthony's face darkened. "Um, how about the moment we discovered the Siblings?"

"Sure, sure," Kyland said slowly. "I've set them up right now to _these_ coordinates. When my thumb leaves this pressure-sensitive button, we all blow up."

He pointed to them. "So… shooting at me… not a good idea."

"He's thought this out," Margarita said with a sneer. "What are your demands, Kyland?"

"I don't know," Kyland said. "I'd have to think about it."

"You gonna wait for the Siblings to descend on our little gathering?" Margarita said.

"Should we move ourselves elsewhere?" Keiko whispered.

"Wouldn't make a difference," Margarita muttered back. "Assuming there _are_ weapons. We can't afford to find out either way, though."

Kyland laughed, pleased at the power he had obtained—until nine tiny figures leapt straight at the hand holding the detonator.

"Hold his thumb down!" 9 bellowed from Kyland's wrist. 8 followed the directions, wrapping his entire body along the back of his hand.

"We've got to disable this thing," 9 said. "5—"

"On it…" the tinkerer replied, setting his face in a determined scowl.

5 slipped himself into Kyland's hand and started re-wiring the device. "And—it's done."

"Well done, 5," 9 said.

Margarita nodded to three soldiers. "Glover, Landau, Tatasciore—take him."

"Kira," Anthony muttered. "Your dad… Hollywood got him."

Kira blinked. "Got… got him? He's dead?"

Anthony nodded. Kira desperately tried to stifle her flood of tears.

As they sat near the edge of the camp, a bot emerged from its concealment in the bushes and jumped right on the nearest target—Kira.

It was shaped like a spinning top with a point as sharp as a knife, with four equally-pointy legs emerging from its four corners. It drilled itself deeply into Kira's side.

"No!" Ray shrieked. "No, Kira!"

He tackled her, wrestling with the sticking machine as it bored itself into Kira's flesh, spilling her blood into the dust.

Ray used the only item available to him—his father's backpack, filled with his books and papers—and began whacking the machine with it, finally dislodging it from Kira. He didn't stop there, crushing the beast to death with incredible force.

Kyland evaded the three soldiers who were after him, but he was nearly surrounded, and nine stitchpunks were doing their utmost to hamper his progress.

Then a reptilian head rose from the earth itself, and Kyland quickly stopped moving.

"My God…" he muttered. "Hollywood, you never fail to make others quake in your presence."

"It's what I do," Hollywood said simply. "Keeps the sacrifices intimidated…"

"Sacrifices?" Kyland said. "No, no… I'm on _your_ side!"

"Damn straight," Hollywood said. He bit Kyland's skull cleanly in half, deeply inhaling the darkness that leaked from him. "Ah, darkness goes down good," he said. He dodged as the tiniest fragment of light emerged, but this one also searched him out unerringly. But no one could claim surprise at Kyland's immense darkness—unlike his absorption of Frederick, Hollywood came out of this encounter better than he had entered.

The stitchpunks leapt off of Kyland's body as it collapsed.

"Kira!" 7 called, pointing.

"No," 9 whispered. "God, no…"

"Stitchpunks!" Hollywood bellowed. "Seek me out when you've vanquished my Siblings. You see, _they_ don't matter." He tapped the sapphire set in his throat. "You'd do well to witness the truth."

Hollywood stretched his wings. His wingspan was scarcely more than his body length, but somehow he launched himself into unpowered flight, straight up into the clouds.

9 paused in his running towards Kira, looking up to observe the dragon's flight. His eyes snapped back to Kira's wound almost immediately. "Too much going on…" he murmured.

In a few seconds, he was proven quite right. Anthony was tending to Kira's wound, but it was viciously opened. 7 stepped back, realizing something surprising about the injury.

Beneath Kira's skin was clearly flesh and blood, but beyond that, her ribcage was made not of bone, but gilded wood. And beyond the ribs, instead of a heart and lungs, were twirling and turning gears moving in harmony, like clockwork.

"Kira…" Ray breathed, horrified.

Kira looked hopelessly around her. "What am I?" she asked.


	37. Self Generated Soul

**37. Self Generated Soul**

Anthony carefully began to bandage Kira's wounds, while she continued to quiver in pain, and the fear of what she was.

"You see, Kira," Anthony said, "the truth is, you're not really Fred Loehrie's ten-year-old daughter. The Loehrie family has been working on you for over seventy years."

"What? No," Kira muttered. "That's impossible. I'm ten."

"That's when you were born, yes," Anthony said, nodding. "Ten years ago."

"But I… I can't be some machine!" Kira exclaimed. "I remember being younger… smaller…"

"Exactly the point," Anthony said solemnly. "You're built with dividing cells. You grow and change… and you're powered by a self-generated soul. Essentially, you're a _perfect_ artificial human."

2 nudged 5. "Now, _that_ is a homunculus."

"Dipree," 9 whispered. "Do you know _how_ this was done?"

"Yes," Anthony replied. "Fred collected his family's notes. See, Kira, I… well, you weren't supposed to know this until you're older, but… your dad said to tell you _everything_ and I think he meant right now. So… here's the deal. When you grow up, and you get married and have a family… well, the gene that makes you a homunculus, what your family called the clockwork gene, is very, _very_ dominant. Anyone descended from a homunculus will _be_ a homunculus, which essentially means that you're to be the mother of an entire, much more durable version of the human race."

Kira flinched, either in disgust or pain. "So… to my dad, was I just a project?"

"Of course not," Anthony said quickly. "We both know you really were a daughter to him."

"Okay," Kira said. "But… still… everyone descended from me? Wouldn't that bug people? I mean… I'm really, _really_ white."

Anthony laughed. "Hey, racial boundaries are the least of our worries in this age. But if it bothers you, you can change your appearance at will. And your descendants will be able to also."

"7," 9 said, tapping her and pointing to Kira. "We've got to get ourselves one of those."

7 blinked. "Wha… what?"

"You know… in due time," 9 amended, smiling. "Someone like us, someone for us to raise."

5 looked at the adoring couple, and whispered, "Yeah… get me one too."

"Look, friends," 2 said. He pointed off the cliff into the ocean.

Out to sea, a metal barge floated along, and Van was perched atop it.

9 nodded and readied his weapon. "Let's get him."


	38. Super Predator

**38. Super Predator**

The stitchpunks weren't willing to guide their balloon directly into a combat situation; but with the help of the humans, they managed to set up a series of miniature hang gliders. In formation, they hopped off the cliff in time with the wind, and made their way toward Van's barge.

Van produced a revolver from one of his doors and began shooting, but the stitchpunks were small moving targets and the weapon's accuracy imperfect—the odds of a stitchpunk being hit were terrible.

Van reversed as the nine set foot upon the barge. His tires tread over a button on its surface, and a pair of magnets emerged on robotic arms from either side.

"No!" 9 yelled. "You won't… we can't let you… the colors… the colors…"

The others had begun muttering similar things, but 8 merely looked confused. Over the years, he'd realized that it had been harder to get high as his use of magnets had progressed… and this was the case right now. He was already beginning to feel tired, however, and knew he had to move quickly…

Van leveled the revolver at the drifting and mumbling stitchpunks. "Later," he drawled.

"No!" 8 roared. He scooped every one of his companions onto his shoulders and, with their weight atop him, dove into the ocean.

Their heads cleared as they sank, and they began to swim, realizing, as they had when the machines in the war had released their chemical weapons, that they had no need to breathe.

1 gaped at 8 as they sank. "You know, 8, I think I love you," he said, his voice unaffected by the water.

"Uh… thanks?" 8 replied uncertainly.

There was a massive splash. Van, as it turned out, was just as functional beneath the water as the stitchpunks were.

"Hey," he said. "So, did you guys kill Alexis?"

"Yes," 7 replied coldly.

Van chuckled. "Awesome… we Siblings were always gonna kill each other, you know. Livin' in the castle, eh, it made things easier, but it wasn't gonna last forever. Personally, I think I would have been the one to survive."

"You make me sick," 7 sneered.

"Yeah? Well, eat my laser beams," Van replied.

Something huge emerged and bit Van cleanly down the middle, swallowing both of his halves, surveying the stitchpunks with immense compound eyes, and then turning to go.

"Wha… what the _hell_ was that?" 5 said shrilly.

3 swam up to 9 and sent him an image of the creature, with a caption: _Anomalocaris. World's first super-predator. Extinct since the Cambrian Age._

3 moved on to explain this to the rest, while 4 added an improvised message to 9: _Generally, **not** 400 feet long._

"I was gonna ask," 9 said dryly.

2 peered into the distance. "Where is it going? And… and how does it find enough food? It's enormous."

"Maybe we brought it here," 7 said. "Just by being… you know… here."

"Well, two Siblings down, and we've hardly had to do anything," 1 said. "Let's get out of the water, yes?"

They all swam up to the barge and hit the button to disable the magnetic field. Their hang-gliders were only slightly damaged, and they proceeded to prepare them for flight back to the cliffside. Once there, 5 noticed a rolled-up piece of paper that he was sure hadn't been there before.

"What's that?" 9 asked.

5 picked it up and unrolled it. As he looked it over, his face dropped into a scowl.

"It's a map," he said. "A map telling us where to find Stephenie and Lang—apparently, they have enclaves out in the countryside."

9 looked at it, and its heading, "To Punks". "It's got to be from Hollywood," he said. "A trap."

"Oh, you think?" 5 said sarcastically. "Come on, a map to our enemies? Hilarious."

"Well, we're going to have to follow its directions," 9 said.

"What?" 5 said, surprised.

"The Siblings are bad for this planet," 9 said.

"They must be stopped," 6 agreed.

"Or they'll destroy everything," 9 and 6 said in unison.

5 blinked. "Okay, fellas? Stop _doing_ that."

"Sorry," 9 said with a smile. "We don't mean to, it just kind of happens. But… it's true. If everyone is agreeable, I want to hunt them down _now_."

"I'm with you," 7 said. "And look… the anomalocaris, I'm sure of it, was given to us by the sea. The planet _wants_ us to fight for it."

"Hey, it doesn't even have to ask," 5 said cheerfully. "We'll do this."


	39. Seen Some Things

**39. Seen Some Things**

It was a few starry nights later that the stitchpunks found the lush, mossy forest that the map indicated as the lair of Stephenie.

"Where now?" 5 asked.

"I don't know," 9 said, examining the map under the light of his staff. "Stephenie is somewhere in this territory… the map doesn't get more specific than that, but this is definitely the place described."

They all packed together at the sound of enormous mechanical whirring and the distinct sound of a tree falling. Cautiously, they peered out of their brush cover and beheld an incredible sight.

Mounted on tank treads was an enormous and complex machine, systematically chopping down one tree at a time and consuming it, before then adding it to a nearby pile of lumber that rivaled the tallest tree in the forest.

A single bright yellow optic lens shined its light into the bush where the stitchpunks were huddled. "Hmmm… who's that, then?" came a rumbling voice.

9 shielded his eyes from the light. "We're… we're looking for a creature named Stephenie. Do you know where we can find her?"

The machine looked away. "Me? No. I'm just a tired, old lumber machine." It continued with its work.

7 stepped up. "Um… excuse me, but… who exactly are you cutting this lumber for?"

"For? Not for nobody. Ain't nobody around, is there? Poison gas got all the people."

"Can't you just… stop?" 7 asked.

"Mmm… nobody bothered to turn me off," the lumber machine growled. "Alls I know is chopping lumber. Nothin' else to do with my life."

"But the trees…" 7 began.

9 touched her shoulder. "Come on, 7. We have work to do… no need to tell him how to live his life."

"Nope… no need," the lumber machine agreed. It turned its eye-beam on the stitchpunks again. "Listen, I don't know nothin' about your Stephenie… but if you're looking for something suspicious… go to the west. That's where I seen little eyeballs popping out of the ground and staring at me before dipping away. And north… I hear voices in my head. Noisy things, whispering some stuff I can't quite understand."

9 was surprised at these details. "Well… thank you. That should get us started."

They headed west along a path of black dirt, where no plant life grew. After a few silent minutes, they began noticing the eyes that the lumber machine had described.

They rose out of the ground, not even shifting the dirt. A scattered few at a time, these lone blue eyeballs would appear, stare for a moment, then go back into the ground as if nothing had happened.

"Hmm… well, I've seen some things…" 1 mused.

"Yeah," 5 said with a weak chuckle. "Well, they don't _seem_ like they mean us any harm."

A firecracker burst at his feet, and he jumped back.

"You just had to say it, didn't you?" 9 said, poking 5 playfully.

An eyeball had appeared, larger than all the rest, as large as a human head. It glowed with a fierce blue light before launching a series of projectiles at the group, each one different, but none quite hitting their mark.

7 lunged at the eye with her spear, but it vanished and appeared directly behind her, scoring a hit on her back with a metal dart. She reacted quickly, swinging her spear, but it passed straight through.

The eye's pupil flared angrily and pelted the group with tiny white explosives. The origin of the attacks struck 7 with an idea—"5, give me a needle."

He handed one off to her, and she plunged it into the exact center of the floating eye's pupil. It vanished in a puff of smoke, as did all of the eyes who had been observing this event.

"Well…" 7 growled. "9, what do you think?"

"I think, dead end," 9 said. "There are some things in this world better left where they lie… things that are none of our concern. If there are no signs of Stephenie, we should try the other location, to the north."

They went back along the path, passed the busy lumber machine again, and up the white gravel path going north. After going uphill some distance, the path ended abruptly at the bottom of a cliff.

"Well, that's odd," 2 said, stepping ahead of the group and snooping around. "The machine said it heard voices in its head… up this way, correct?"

"But wait…" 7 said. "I see no sign that it's been up this path. It would have left tracks. If it had _ever_ come up here, there would be tracks."

2 nodded, prodding at a dusty piece of fabric that he had spotted partially buried in the gravel. "No tracks… no voices… nothing but a pair of old woolen pantaloons."

Suddenly, a thin fabric leg tied itself around 2's throat.

"Ack!" 2 choked out. "Killer pantaloons!"

The ash-covered demonic leggings rose out from beneath the stones, floating in mid-air as it casually strangled 2.

"2, hold on!" 5 yelled, lighting a match. The wool burned quickly, and the odd thing's grip slackened long enough for 2 to get away. Soon, nothing was left.

"Well, _that_ wasn't spooky at all," 5 said sarcastically.

"Are these supposed to be death traps or something?" 7 said. "We've gotten out of them easily enough… are we to believe this has actually worked on somebody?"

"Well, we're small, but we're a large party," 9 said. "All of us working together… it's something people don't think of when setting traps, strangely enough. The bad guys overlook teamwork."

"I want to talk to that woodcutter," 7 said. "I think it knows what's really happening here."

They went back down the hill, and the lumber machine's single eye turned on them. "So… how'd it go?"

"Well, we found some strange things, but no Stephenie," 9 said.

"I know," the machine said simply. "See, if the eyeball didn't get you, and the pantaloons didn't get you, Stephenie says I should just kill you myself. Which I'm gonna do. Right now."


	40. From Within

**40. From Within**

A huge axe emerged from the machine's side and took a swing at all the stitchpunks at once. They all hit the dirt, and the axe nicked 8 in the back, flinging him away.

Several hundred tiny, circular buzz saws emerged from the machine's front as it very slowly advanced on the stitchpunks.

9 held his ground, wary of any sudden moves the machine might decide to make. Seeing it twitch, he rolled back just in time to evade the saws' wild slash at the clan. One blade was thrown out of its base toward 5, who was blindsided as it dug into his leather patchwork.

5 fell backward, rolling through the dirt even as the lumber machine went right past him to get to the others. Adjusting his equipment, 5 got to his feet and pulled the saw blade out of his head. With unusual clarity, 5 knew what he had to do then, and the first step was to see who was on hand… only 3 and 4. That worked out just fine.

"Hey," 5 said, motioning to them. "Come on! We have to climb up that thing and disable it from inside."

3 and 4 looked surprised.

"Well, come on!" 5 exclaimed. "We've got to take it down! So let's go."

They climbed onto one of the woodcutter's enormous tank treads, boosting and pulling each other up the giant machine. From his high vantage point, 5 took note of the others' placement… everyone was accounted for, and by all appearances, had the potential to get back up.

"All right, fellas," 5 said. "We're gonna go inside it… and break it down."

5 entered a vent just above the machine's optic, and the pipe took him to a central control chamber.

"You see?" he said excitedly to 3 and 4. "A processing unit—this is amazing engineering, nothing else we've seen before… well, anyway…"

Spikes started shooting from the walls and withdrawing just as quickly, to the twins' horror.

"Built to defend itself," 5 pondered. "Even from within… you guys watch your backs! Ah, here we go—wires."

5 started tearing chunks of the wires off the inside wall, placing them back together in a hurried configuration while the machine's innards tried desperately to skewer them.

"Got it!" 5 said. "Okay, might want to stand behind something."

He pulled up a strip of metal and huddled underneath it along with the twins… and barely an instant later, the machine's engine exploded.

3, 4, and 5 were hurled through the air, upsetting the loose forest floor as they crashed. Rubbing his head, 5 sat up to see the broken husk of the lumber machine. 9 nodded appreciatively.

"Well done, 5," 9 said. "But that still leaves Stephenie…"

A few tiny, blue things began to zip out of the ruined lumber machine—tiny, blue replicas of Stephenie, buzzing toward them.

"Hrmmm…" 8 growled.

"Yeah, 'hrmmm' just about does it," 5 agreed. He flinched, feeling slight pinpricks along his upper arm, and saw that dozens of blue darts had been shoved under his skin. He stared in the one direction they could have come from, and saw one of the mini-Stephenies holding its tail over its head to fire another volley. 5 leveled his crossbow at it angrily.

Another of the small beasts, holding a straight sword in each of its four wing claws, menaced 6 with a swirl of blades. 7 and 2 moved in to rescue him, but quickly regretted it—it spun in a full circle, nicking each of them multiple times, until 8 reached over their heads and batted it clear out of the air.

1 advanced on one of them, which was armed with what appeared to be a sitar. Hovering in the air, it played a single chord, and 1 suddenly found his stress gone, his desire to step forward halted, and he could do nothing but blink.

"Intriguing," 1 muttered.

9 stepped in and pounded the miniscule creature to the ground, then stomped on it. "Are you okay there, 1?" he said.

1 coughed. "Ahem, yes… embarrassing."

9 did a head count. "How many were there?"

"Not enough to give all of us sport, apparently," 1 said, noticing that the battle was over.

They all tensed up as a flash of brightest blue streaked across the sky, and the real Stephenie settled on a branch.

"Well, that's four attempts on your life," Stephenie said. "You should have just let these things kill you. If you had, you would have been lucky… because now you have to deal with me personally."


	41. For Your Own Good

**41. For Your Own Good**

The stitchpunks readied their weapons as Stephenie's glittery red eyes surveyed them… this stare-down continued for an interminable amount of time…

…Until Stephenie rocketed down toward them at an impossible speed. She tore through the pack, dividing them. Before they could react in the slightest, Stephenie had bitten off 8's eye, used her tail to slice of 6's arm, and retreated to another tree.

Stephenie lurked out of their range as they gathered themselves up. She circled around the party in endless loops and at high speeds. 8 clumsily pushed his eye back into place and hurled his knife at her, but it missed by a long shot.

5 rolled his eye. "No," he whispered. "This is how it's done."

He aimed his crossbow seemingly at nothing, and shot at empty air. As Stephenie passed the needle caught her right in the neck—5 had taken a perfect shot at where she was going to be.

Off-balance, Stephenie tumbled to the ground, and 3 and 4 rushed over to her with straight razors, stabbing her through the wings to pin her to the ground.

5 stepped up to Stephenie, loading a second needle. "By the way," he said, "why'd you try to kill us with evil pantaloons, bitch?"

He aimed between her eyes for the killing shot.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Kira rested on a hastily-constructed sickbed near the place where the Siblings' castle had collapsed. Ray stood by her, stroking her hair.

"So…" he said. "How are you?"

"Oh, fine," Kira said cheerfully.

"Good, good…" Ray muttered. "Anyway, Kira… I've been thinking, you being the future of humanity and all that?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Well, it's just… if I understand correctly… you need, like, a guy, right? I'm not saying, like, before we're married, or… or…"

Kira considered what he was saying, and her paper-white face flushed red. "Oh… Ray, I'm ten. And you're twelve."

He stared at her. "Uh-huh, and…?"

"Well, I… I don't feel like having a boyfriend," she said. "I don't… I can't even _start_ thinking about this… can we talk again in five years?"

Ray frowned. "Could you make it two? Just to start talking about it?"

"Make it five," Margarita said as she came around the bend toward them. "For your own good, kids."

"Yeah," Kira agreed. "Then you can be my boyfriend, and… we'll talk. But you're still my best friend, Ray. For all time."


	42. Try Everything

**42. Try Everything**

The stitchpunks arrived at a rocky hill featuring the entrance to a deep cave, where the map informed them they could find Lang.

"Well, this is it," 9 said. "Just as before, we'll have to figure out on our own where to go from here. Lights on, everybody."

Within the cave were a few steaming puddles of water—tiny little hot springs. On the cave's back wall were several sets of double-doors.

The stitchpunks spent a few minutes trying to force the doors open or pick the locks, all to no avail.

"We can't get through," 2 decided. "Not with the limited resources we have."

"We can't be at a dead end," 5 said, frustrated. "Let me go through my pack… even though our lockpicks don't work, we have…" 5 fumbled with his pack for a moment.

"Nothing?" 1 finished.

5 sighed. "Yeah. Nothing. 2?"

2 shrugged. "I have a lighter and a spray bottle of alcohol-based perfume."

5 blinked. "Um… why?"

"Well…" 2 laughed. "You'd be surprised. But nothing to force open these great stone doors, I fear."

The stitchpunks tensed as a voice echoed through the cave.

"Hollywood led you here, didn't he?" came Lang's distinctive sneering voice. "I'll have to seek out my traitorous brother after this is all over. Engulfers, to the main entrance. Destroy the intruders."

From the hot springs rose three large, humanoid figures made entirely of water. They hurled chunks of boiling water at the stitchpunks, painfully overheating the stitchpunks' metal body parts.

2 shook his head to get some of the water off, dislodging his damaged eye as he did so. Sliding it back it, he glared at the attackers.

"This could work," he muttered. He pulled the lighter and perfume out of his pouch. Holding down the spray nozzle on the perfume, he ignited the lighter right in front of it, creating a great inferno that instantly evaporated the watery creatures. 2 spun in a full circle, taking out the other two as well.

5 laughed. "I gotcha… nifty little blowtorch there."

"Thank you," 2 said, bowing.

1 snorted. "Pantaloons, eyeballs, tortured ghosts, and now these water creatures… the man/machine war certainly brought out some horrible things."

"Indeed," 2 said. "But in this case, those were Engulfers. They've always existed, but human science could never figure out why or how. Of course, the world would be no fun at all if every mystery had an answer."

7 stepped up to one of the hot springs. "Hey, fellas," she said. "I hadn't noticed because of the steam, but there are tunnels in these pools. They must lead deeper into the cave—I'll bet the doors are just decoys."

9 nodded. "We take the tunnels, then."

"Which tunnel, though?" 5 said. "There are a lot of entrances around here…"

"We'll take them one at a time," 9 said. "Unless anybody thinks we don't have spare time?"

"No," 2 muttered. "We have more than enough time to try everything…"

"Let's go, then," 9 said. Picking a pool at random, he jumped in. He treaded water for a moment, then dove. The others followed. The curiously well-lit tunnel was just the size for stitchpunks—or for Lang. The clan almost had to walk through it rather than swim.

Emerging from the hot spring on the other side, they faced a huge door, this one made of wood. 8 immediately stepped forward to push it open, and this time met with success. Beyond it was a second, even larger door—8 needed help to get this one open…

And beyond it was an armored wooden tank. Atop it was a glass bubble, where Lang stood in front of several controls. He aimed the tank's gun at the stitchpunks.

"Welcome," the glass man said graciously.


	43. Not Turning My Back

**43. Not Turning My Back**

2 whipped out his improvised blowtorch once again, which appeared to wear down the tank somewhat.

1 spread his cape and stood over a nearby hot spring; the heat from it raised him into the air. Observing this, 2 pulled out a large sheet of fabric and imitated him.

1 and 2 tossed their weapons at the glass dome over Lang, which collapsed, burying the glass man in more shards of glass.

"1, what's your plan?" 2 asked, as they maneuvered themselves to a position standing atop the tank.

"I want to take him down," 1 said. "I feel… I feel that Lang is _my_ personal demon, more than anyone else's… and that I should face him alone."

"Well, then I'll help you," 2 said. "We are brothers, you and I."

1 blinked. "Hmm… I feel obligated by my conscience to remind you that I once got you killed."

"And I'm certainly not turning my back on you again," 2 said with a wry smile. "Nevertheless, brothers stay together, you old soldier, you. If Lang is your demon, he's my demon too… and we'll fight him together."

"Well… thank you, 2," 1 said.

1 and 2 sifted through the broken glass until they found the prone form of Lang. Picking their weapons out of the glass, the two oldsters utterly eliminated Lang.

After disabling the tank, 9 began to think about the situation.

"This still leaves Hollywood," he said. "But where could _he_ be?"

All of the stitchpunks pondered this together.

"Go back to the source," 9 said suddenly.

"Uh… what?" 6 said.

"It's what Hollywood did," 9 said. "He must have gone back to the former site of the Siblings' castle! Don't you remember—they disposed of so many jars filled with the light of good human souls… that light is the only weapon we have against Hollywood. So he'd want to keep us from it! We have to get back there. We need to get back to that light before he does."


	44. Puzzling Existence

**44. Puzzling Existence**

At the ashes of what was once the Sibling's castle, the stitchpunks appeared over the horizon in their now engine-propelled balloon house.

From the ashes rose Hollywood on an enormous moving platform, and behind him, a towering stack of jars filled with pure white light.

"Greetings, non-human humans," Hollywood said in an exaggerated bow. "You have vanquished _all_ of my brothers and sisters, I take it? Good, good… all part of my plan to keep safe this lovely little sapphire. Do you see it?" He gestured to the gem tucked into the scales on his neck.

"It's a puzzling existence, this," Hollywood said thoughtfully. "My directive is to eradicate all life on Earth—and yet, I cannot survive without feeding on the souls of men. So, rather than throw the gem away, I keep it on my person at all times… to lure life _to_ me.

"And now," Hollywood declared, "irony of ironies, now I need to keep all of this loathsome light _safe_. You've seen what it does to me, yes? No human could have ever discovered our secrets, which gave us reason to fear you—but even you are privy to human notions of nobility. With my siblings in your grasp, you just _had_ to go and get them, didn't you? So useless… you'll never access my one weakness now."

From behind Hollywood's back came gunfire—the entire human encampment, who had come up behind him while he spoke to the stitchpunks.

But they weren't shooting at him. They were aiming at the jars. Each shot shattered one, and the light within went straight for Hollywood's skin.

He began to decay, and soon his legs couldn't hold him up. Flat on his back, Hollywood writhed in anguish as the light ate at him from within.

"No!" Hollywood roared. "NOOOO!"

He held his own face in his sharp claws as he screamed… and as the last of the light began to seep into his body, he suddenly went limp, gazing at the sky with a blank expression.

"The light," he whispered. "It's so… beautiful…"

With a long and loud death rattle, Hollywood faded into ash, leaving behind nothing but the blue gem.

The stitchpunks brought their balloon down to the ground as the humans below began hugging and congratulating one another. 9 leapt out of the balloon before it touched earth, and stepped over to the gem curiously.

He bent down and touched it.


	45. Life Must Go On

**45. Life Must Go On**

The moment 9's hand touched the great sapphire, a spark ignited, knocking him flat on his back. From his eyes, a hologram emerged: one of the very Scientist who had given life to the stitchpunks.

"Greetings," the Scientist said. "If anyone is watching this, it means that one of my greatest creations"—he gestured to the table behind him, where the half-finished forms of 1, 2, 3, and 4 were laid out—"has come into contact with another of my best works." He held up a simple sketch of the gem.

"This gem creates life," the Scientist explained. "Only those who are motivated, but are not themselves living things, may implement it. If you, the nine, are watching this, I weep with joy, for the pieces of my soul may now set to work activating the gem. For only under you… can life go on. Life… _must_… go on."

9 heaved as the hologram deactivated, then got to his feet, feeling out of breath. The rest of the stitchpunk clan ran up to support him.

"I… I _get_ it," 9 whispered. "I get it now!"

Something large approached them silently; the leopard, bowing to them in respect.

"That explains where _you_ came from, doesn't it?" 9 said, patting it on the nose.

"What?" 7 said quietly.

"Our oasis," 9 said. "It didn't survive the war… it came into being spontaneously, from this gem." He held it up. "The Siblings, they created the oasis of life and used it as human-bait, so they would have souls to harvest. But now that we have it… we can create life. Everywhere on Earth, we can create life."

9 touched the gem, and green grass sprang out underneath his feet, spreading out thousands of feet in every direction. Trees appeared from nowhere, trees from all places on earth, as well as animals of all kinds… birds, small mammals, large ones… and out in the ocean beyond the cliff, an entire pod of dolphins did a simultaneous leap out of the water. 7 gasped, almost stumbling from the excitement of it.

Heavy footsteps behind the stitchpunks made them jump, and they looked up at Anthony and Margarita.

"So… you can make the whole planet like the old oasis?" Anthony said.

"I always wondered…" Margarita muttered. "The sheer _density_ of the animals there… and here now. You get right down to that!"

Kira squeezed her way between the two adults. "You're not going to stay with us?" she said.

"We can't, sweetie," 7 said. "We have to bring the world back. We're going to grow life, just like this—on every square inch of this planet."

"That's gonna be quite the journey," 5 said thoughtfully.

9 pulled 5 and 7 into a hug. "Come on," he said. "There's a lot of this world left to see."

**The End**


End file.
